Rebels to the End
by daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: Various oneshots/drabbles about my Champion, Olivia Hawke, and Anders.
1. Fifteen Kisses

**Fifteen Kisses**

* * *

_Lips**_

She'd imagined kissing him for the longest time, but never dared to actually _do_ it. But then she heard about the templars in Darktown and rushed to his clinic to make sure he was okay. For the brief seconds she couldn't find him she imagined the worst, fear and despair gripping her heart like a vice. When he found her and pulled her into hiding, she was so relieved. The situation had set her emotions into a frenzy and she couldn't take it anymore—so she finally kissed him. She forgot about the templars, about everything, except how _right_ it felt. When she pulled back, he stared at her, almost in awe, before his brows knit together and he frowned. He told her they could never happen, that he didn't want to hurt her, and she stormed away, ashamed and angry. He didn't want to hurt her, but that's exactly what he'd done.

* * *

_Forehead_

She was a light sleeper. She had to be, living on the run with her family in the early years of her life. So it didn't take very long for her to realize just how bad his nightmares were. He always awoke panicked and on edge, breaths unsteady and shallow. She pulled him into her arms, curling her body protectively around his as she tried to calm him down. He clutched at her like a lifeline, and she smoothed his hair from his face, pressing a light kiss to his sweaty forehead before holding his head against her chest. She whispered words of love, stroked his back, and held him until he relaxed against her. Only when she knew he fell back asleep did she allow herself to join him.

* * *

_Cheek_

She enjoyed spending time at the Hanged Man with her friends, especially since a certain mage didn't shy away from her when they got too close or stared for too long. It was the opposite now; they'd always sit right next to each other, chairs pressed together, and when he caught her staring his lips would quirk into the lopsided smile he reserved only for her. When he thought no one was looking, he tucked her hair behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Of course everyone _was_ looking, and she rolled her eyes at their comments, threatening to electrify them all if they didn't shut it. He let out a light laugh and whispered in her ear, telling her to save the sparks for later. She dragged him home immediately.

* * *

_Nose_

He knew she was exhausted, so he didn't ask too much of her when she came to help out in his clinic. As the day went on, he noticed her yawning more and more, trying to stay awake until she disappeared altogether. When he sent his last patient home, he looked around for her, smiling to himself when he found her. She was asleep on his old cot, one arm and a leg dangling off the side, a light snore escaping her. He gently brushed her hair out of her face and kissed the tip of her freckled nose. She jerked awake, alarmed and ready to strike, until she saw it was only him. She huffed and pulled him down onto the cot. She gave him a chance to get comfortable before draping herself on top of him and promptly falling back asleep. It seemed they would be staying in his clinic for the night.

* * *

_Back of Hand_

Her mother had forced her to go to some event with the other nobles, so he spent the night working on his manifesto. When he heard her come home, he grabbed the parchment and went to bring it to her, eager to have her read it over. When he found her, he stopped dead in his tracks and just stared. _Maker_, she was all done up and wearing a _dress_, and she looked absolutely stunning. She was uncomfortable under his gaze, and snapped at him, demanding he stop staring at her like that. He chuckled and smirked, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand as he bowed. He told her she was beautiful, throwing in a few utterances of "my lady" just to annoy her. It worked, and she swatted him away before stomping into their bedroom, leaving him laughing in the hallway.

* * *

_Fingertips_

She loved watching him heal. She'd never taken to it; all she could do with her magic was destroy, so healing fascinated her. _His_ healing especially. She'd never admit it, but she was guilty of "accidentally" hurting herself on more than one occasion so she'd have a chance to see his magic at work. Which was why she was sitting in his clinic bleeding all over the place because she'd "accidentally" cut herself. He inspected her wound, cleaning it before pressing his hand over it, his fingers glowing with blue healing magic. She watched him concentrate, brows knit together and eyes focused on his task, the warmth from his magic sending tingles down her spine. When he finished, she grabbed his hand and kissed his magical fingertips, thanking him. He shot her a smile, and the look in his eyes told her he knew all along about her "accidents."

* * *

_Collarbone_

He was still protesting coming to bed when she started kissing him. So she kept at it, trailing her lips down his neck, her fingers working to get his coat off. He didn't push her away, but he still wouldn't _shut up_. She yanked his coat collar aside and nibbled on his collarbone, momentarily silencing him. When he opened his mouth to continue speaking, she bit him harder and he breathed in sharply, his grasp on her arms tightening. She waited a moment, to see if he would dare to start protesting again, but he didn't, thank the Maker. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone where she'd bitten him and pulled back, meeting his gaze. He shook his head and she grinned at him, taking his hand and leading him to their room.

* * *

_Shoulder_

He'd done it. He'd finally done it. After three years, he finally told her that he loved her, and she said she felt the same. He was terrified it all was a dream, that he'd wake up alone in his clinic, Justice chastising him for thinking about her _again_. But it wasn't a dream. He was in her home, in her bed, and he was holding her sleeping form in his arms. He shifted his arms around her more securely, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She let out a sleepy sigh, murmuring his name and pressing her body even closer to him. He smiled, breathing in her scent, and let sleep take him. He knew she would still be there when he woke up.

* * *

_Spine_

He'd told her of life in the Circle, of what they did to him every time they dragged him back, but hearing about something and _seeing_ it for yourself were two entirely different things. She hated seeing the scars on his body—mostly his back—from the various beatings he'd endured at the hands of the templars. She ran her fingers and lips over the faded lines up his spine while whispering words of love against his skin. She vowed she wouldn't let the templars do such a thing to him, or any other mage, ever again. That as long as she lived, she would stand by his side and fight to get mages the freedom that they deserved.

* * *

_Throat_

He hadn't heard her come in and didn't realize he wasn't alone until she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. He glanced to her quickly before returning his focus to his manifesto. He probably should have acknowledged her more, but he had to finish. He and Justice had to make people see how mages were persecuted, how magic was a gift from the Maker, not a curse, that—  
The press of her lips to his throat calmed him and helped him to silence the spirit in his head. He let out a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. She told him she loved him, and pressed another kiss to his neck before releasing him. He thought she was going to leave, but instead, she pulled up a chair and picked up the first page of his manifesto, her eyes scanning over his words. When she finished the page, she grabbed the next, reading that one, too. She looked up and met his gaze with a smile, and he smiled back. She got back to reading, and he started writing again, that smile still on his face.

* * *

_Stomach_

He loved everything about her. The way she wanted to help everyone in Kirkwall. How she would come to the defense of her friends at the drop of a hat, no matter what they did. The way her eyes glinted with mischief when she fought enemies, her magic a pure destructive force compared to the way she gracefully moved with her staff, as if it were an extension of her. That cute little yawn she did before falling into bed and curling up beside him. Her scent. The way she ran her hands through his hair when she was comforting him, and the way she tangled her fingers in it when they were intimate. How her stomach muscles would tighten and quiver as he kissed her there, how she arched her back and pressed herself closer to him, silently asking for more. The sounds she made and the way she breathed his name when she was completely lost. How she'd cling to him afterwards, whispering about how she wished they could stay like that forever, together, in each other's arms. What he loved the most, though, was the look on her face when they were alone and she told him she loved him. He could _see_ the love in her eyes, that she loved _all_ of him, no matter what. It was times like those that he almost believed they could have a happy ending.

* * *

_Hipbone_

Her body was still new to him, and he was determined to learn every curve of it. He ran his hands over her, his lips following, kissing a path down from her neck, her chest, and her stomach, over her hips and down her legs, all the way to her feet. She giggled when he tickled her with his stubble, sighed and moaned when he found a particularly sensitive spot on her skin. He committed every slope and valley of her body to memory, never wanting to forget a single part of her. She was beautiful, and somehow she was his. He was going to make sure every kiss and caress showed her just how much he loved her.

* * *

_Outer Thigh_

She fought recklessly, dashing into the heat of battle, wielding her staff as if it were a melee weapon. She bashed and stabbed just as much as she used magic, and while she was mesmerizing to watch, she always gave him a heart attack. She got injured just as much as any warrior, suffering bruises and stabs on a regular basis. He used to tell her how dangerously she fought when he patched her up, but she would just grin and laugh, beautiful even with her face covered in blood. He didn't bother with the warnings anymore; she never listened anyway. And that's why there was a deep, bleeding slash wound in her outer thigh. He cleaned the wound and healed it, and she let out a sigh of relief. She moved to leave, but he held onto her and pressed a kiss to her newly healed skin. She grinned at him, jerking him upwards by his coat and pressing her lips to his, muttering a "thank you" between kisses. When she pulled back she winked at him, then grabbed his hand and tugged him along to catch up with their friends.

* * *

_Inner Thigh_

She kissed his inner thigh, refusing to put her lips where he really wanted… not yet, at least. She was going to draw it out as long as she could, tease him until he cracked. It seemed a fitting punishment for making her wait three years to be with him. Three _long_ years of loving him and being rejected every time she tried to bring it up, even though she knew he'd felt something for her, too. Three years of standing by his side through anything and everything, just because she believed in him and wanted to be around him. Three _ridiculous_ years of trying to ignore that handsome face so she could focus on other things, like not adding deadly ingredients to health potions. Yes, torturing him in bed seemed like the perfect way to make him wish they started this years ago. She would make sure he knew what he was missing for all that time and make sure he would never, ever think of doing such a thing again.

* * *

_Pelvic Bone_

The best part of her day was waking up beside him. She never had someone stay the night, let alone move in, until him, and she loved every aspect of it. She loved cuddling in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers as she slept. She loved waking him up with kisses until he laughed and kissed her back. She loved waking up to his gentle hands stroking her hair or rubbing her back. She loved the days when he was feeling mischievous, waking her up with little kisses and nips to her pelvic bone before traveling south and making her toes curl. Mostly she loved that she wasn't alone. That she finally had someone she could be herself around. She didn't have to hide her magic or guard herself. She could just _be_.

* * *

**Lips → In my headcanon, the in-game kiss wasn't their first kiss. There were a few before that over the three years between Act 1 and Act 2, and Anders would always tell Olivia that it could never happen again.


	2. Lessons

**Lessons**

This takes place during Act 1, not too long before the Deep Roads Expedition

* * *

It had been a rather light day in the clinic. As much as she wanted the people of Kirkwall to be healthy, Olivia would rather she and Anders had patients to deal with. Then she wouldn't be stuck failing to learn healing magic _again_. She almost wished she'd never asked Anders to teach her. She would have saved herself a lot of embarrassment and frustration.

"Just focus," he said, and she took a deep breath, sitting up straighter. She closed her eyes and held out her hand, palm up, drawing on the power of her magic. "Healing brings comfort and relief. It's serenity and tenderness. Think of what home feels like, or the warmth of a blanket around your shoulders on a cold winter night…"

Olivia nodded, thinking of the time she spent with Anders in the clinic, watching him heal and making potions with him. She pictured her family back in Lothering, when they were all together and alive and happy. She remembered Bethany, Carver, and herself when they were children, the summer sun shining down on them as they played in the meadows.

She muttered the incantation for the spell, chanting the words over and over, until she felt the warmth of magic in the palm of her hand. She expected to find the blue glow of healing magic in her hand, but when her eyes flew open they landed on a small ball of flame. It wasn't exactly the kind of warmth she was going for.

The small flame flared, growing larger and uncontrolled as Olivia's anger got the better of her. With an exasperated huff she balled her hand into a fist, extinguishing the flames before she accidentally burnt down the clinic. She buried her face in her hands, desperately trying not to_scream_.

"Liv?" Anders murmured, gently curling his fingers around her wrist. The sudden touch startled her and made her jerk upright, but she let him take her hand in his, his thumbs slowly kneading the palm of her hand. "You need to relax."

"Anders, I—"

"_Relax_," he said, and it wasn't a request—it was a demand. Olivia sighed, trying to listen to him. The hand massage definitely helped, and soon enough she was as calm as she'd been before. Anders cradled her hand in his, calling on his own magic. She watched, amazed as always, as the warmth and glow of his healing magic enveloped her hand, familiar, pleasant tingles moving up her arm. She closed her eyes and focused on that feeling, trying to conjure up her own magic to mix with his.

It didn't work.

Disheartened, Olivia tugged her hand away from Anders' and shook her head. "This is never going to work," she said. "I'm just _horrible_ at this."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," he started, an apologetic smile on his lips. "I guess I'm not as good a teacher as I thought I was."

"It's not that! You're a _great_ teacher!" she protested. Olivia let out a frustrated groan, clenching and unclenching her hands to keep herself from accidentally summoning more fire. "I'm just a horrible student. I always was. My father could never get me to heal, so I don't know why I thought I could now." She looked away from Anders, unable to meet his gaze, embarrassed and ashamed of herself. "I've only ever been good at destruction, not creation. Flames and lightning, that's it," she continued, frowning. "What kind of mage can't cast a simple healing spell?"

He placed his fingers under her chin, turning her head to face his. He tentatively brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear, and Olivia swallowed hard, her eyes on his.

"There's nothing wrong with not being able to heal," he said softly.

"But it's not just healing that I can't do. All I can do is primal, elemental, and force magic," she argued. "No spirit, no entropy, no arcane, and certainly no creation."

"I've seen you use the arcane," he pointed out, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, the telekinetic bits. It might as well be force."

"Well, I can't do entropy, either."

She glared at him. "But you can do everything else… and you're not even just a regular healer, you're a _spirit_ healer."

He sighed, fixing her with a serious look. "Liv, you have to embrace what you're good at," he started. "You have so much raw potential, and you're already one of the most powerful mages I've ever met."

"Really?"she asked, feeling a little less hopeless than she had before.

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. "You could still benefit from some control, though," he said with an amused laugh. Olivia bit back a grin. That was an understatement.

"I know," she replied. "I just… I feel my magic, just like I do my emotions, you know? It's hard to separate them sometimes."

"We could work on that instead," Anders offered, and she nodded enthusiastically.

"I think I'd like that very much."

He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. He held out his hand, a small ball of flame bursting to life in the palm of his hand. "Fire first?"

Olivia theatrically wiggled her fingers before conjuring up her own ball of flames. "Fire first," she agreed.


	3. Falling

**Falling**

This takes place in Act 1, shortly before the Deep Roads Expedition.

* * *

Olivia always took Anders on her myriad quests throughout Kirkwall, though most of the time they spent together was down in his clinic. He liked that time together; having someone around to help when things got busy, having someone to talk to, someone who looked after him and believed in him… he liked having a _friend_.

But Anders also enjoyed the outings away from his clinic. The fresh air was always nice, especially out on the Wounded Coast, and it was nice to see Olivia enjoying herself with her friends. It was a good thing she dragged him along too, because she had a penchant for getting hurt when they got into fights. She never got injured too badly, but she always commented on how handy it was to have him around to heal her.

On that particular day, they ran into a group of bandits on their way back to the city. As Anders cast his spells from afar—making sure his companions stayed alive during the battle—he heard the sound of Olivia's laughter ringing out over the sounds of the fight. He turned his head until his eyes landed on her, catching her the moment she drove the bladed bottom of her staff into a bandit's gut. She sent sparks down her staff and into the man's body to finish him off before pulling it out out and whirling around quickly, bashing another bandit in the face with the electrified orb at the top of her staff. He went down hard and she laughed again, almost missing a bandit aiming at her with his bow.

Anders' heart beat frantically in his chest as he envisioned the arrow finding its way into Olivia's chest, the light leaving her eyes as she died from the impact. He prepared to send a bolt of magic at the man himself, but she beat him to it. She slammed her staff down, a wall of jagged ice bursting up from the ground, deflecting the bandit's arrow before it had a chance to hit her. Anders watched as she extended her arm and held her hand out, summoning up a wave of telekinetic energy that lifted the man off the ground. She flicked her wrist and magically slammed him into a nearby rock before smashing him into the ground.

Once she was relatively safe, he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. The blasted woman was going to get herself killed one of these days if she kept fighting so recklessly. He was always telling her to stay out of the thick of things, but she never listened, rattling off some comment on how fighting people up close was more _fun_.

She was absolutely _mad_.

A sudden thump behind him brought Anders back to the melee still raging on around him. He turned around to find a bandit dead on the ground, one of Varric's bolts sticking out of the man's chest.

"Eyes on the fight, Blondie!" the dwarf shouted, reloading Bianca and taking out another bandit.

Anders quickly nodded at him before focusing back on what he was supposed to be doing, trying very hard not to let his eyes wander to Olivia. As insane as she was, she was quite the sight to watch when she fought.

It wasn't long before all the bandits fell, Anders smashing the last one with the spiked end of his staff. "Anybody need healing?" he called out.

"I do," Olivia said, her voice strained. She let out a groan of pain and huffed. "Oh, yeah, I definitely do."

Maker, what did she do to herself this time?

Anders turned around, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping at the sight of her. She had one arm draped over Isabela's shoulders, the rogue helping her stand upright. Her other arm hung at her side, a gaping, bloody wound at the top of her shoulder, and her face… Andraste's flaming knickers, _her face_…

Olivia saw his reaction and shot him a shit-eating grin, looking like a complete fool given the fact that her left eye was _purple_, the tender skin already starting to swell. Oh, and there was also the fact that her ridiculous grin made her split lip start to bleed again.

"What… how did this happen?" Anders asked, quickly ushering the two women over to a nearby boulder.

"That guy stabbed me," she said, gesturing to a bandit's charred corpse. Isabela helped her sit down on the boulder, and Anders sat beside her as the rogue went to search the bandits' bodies for loot with Varric.

"And how did he get close enough to you to do that?" he asked sarcastically, fingers tentatively poking and prodding at the bleeding wound in her shoulder as he inspected it.

Olivia giggled, and he rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. "Well, you see, _I_ got close to _him_," she replied. She went to speak again, but he started to heal her, and she sighed, her body relaxing as the pain faded. "I bashed him in the face with my staff, and he took offense to that," she continued, and he tried not to laugh as he re-inspected her healed wound, just in case.

"You're mad," Anders said, turning his attention to her bruised and battered face.

For a moment he just stared at her, her lips curled into that shit-eating grin again. The dark bruise around her eye brought out the bright blue of her eyes, and the blood spattered on her face mimicked the dusting of freckles underneath. Anders' gaze was drawn to the cut on her lip, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to take her face in his hands and kiss her breathless.

"The, um, bandit… he hit me in the face with the pommel of his sword," Olivia muttered, the sound of her voice startling him. He swallowed hard, and focused back on healing her, trying to ignore the way she made him feel. "And then he punched me," she finished, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You might have a concussion," he stated, lifting his hand to the bruise on her face, gently touching it as to not hurt her. "You're going to have to stay at the clinic tonight so I can keep an eye on you." She nodded, closing her eyes as he began to heal her, a shaky breath slipping past her lips as his magic met her bruise.

When he finished, he pulled his hand back and she snapped her eyes open, staring at him as he lightly traced over the cut on her lip with the tip of his finger. Anders could feel her warm breath on his finger, and it sent shivers down his spine. He pushed away the sudden urge to kiss her again, focusing on the task at hand, blue tendrils of healing magic leaping from the tip of his finger to the cut on her lip. Olivia gasped, and thank the Maker he finished healing her a second later, because his thoughts shifted away from focusing on his magic.

Would she gasp like that if he kissed her? Would her lips feel soft against his own? Would he be able to taste her magic fizzling just below her skin? What would she feel like if—

Justice rumbled in the back of his mind, uttering things like "distraction" and "inappropriate." The untimely interruption brought him back to the present, and he jerked his fingers away from Olivia's lip, not realizing he'd let them linger. She stared at him again, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open as she gazed at him.

"Thank you," she breathed, and he slowly nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

"You're welcome," he replied.

"Anders, I—"

"Hey, Hawke! Look at this!" came Varric's voice, startling the two mages. She sighed, furrowing her brows before she got up and hurried towards the dwarf.

She shot him a small smile over her shoulder, and Anders couldn't help but smile back at her. It only made her beam even more, her smile lighting up her face.

Maker, she was beautiful when she smiled like that. She was beautiful even when she was bruised and battered and bloody.

Justice protested his thoughts, signaling warning bells in the back of his mind. He had to stop thinking of her that way. Olivia was his _friend_, nothing more.

But Anders was falling for her—he was falling _hard_—and as much as it hurt to deny it, it would hurt even more if something happened to her because of him. He had to protect her… even if it meant breaking his own heart.


	4. Rejection

**Rejection**

This takes place between Act 1 and Act 2 (closer to Act 1 because Olivia was absolutely smitten with Anders by the time the Deep Roads Expedition rolled around).

* * *

Something was wrong. Olivia heard hushed voices up ahead, right around the corner of the street. It was probably a group of thugs, one of the gangs she was trying to get off the streets. It was late, and she was alone, but she could still take them. She'd end up with a few scrapes and bruises, but she could go to Anders' clinic and get him to heal them. He'd lecture her about fighting alone, but it would be worth it if she got to see him.

She grabbed her staff off her back and peeked around the corner, finding herself staring at a large group of templars. She quickly ducked out of sight, fear taking hold of her. They didn't know the newest member of the nobility was a mage, and she wanted to keep it that way. She was just going to have to wait until they left, just to be safe.

Olivia couldn't help but overhear them talking about their assignments. The group here was to raid Lowtown, while another group was raiding Darktown—right by Anders' clinic.

Her stomach flipped, adrenaline kicking her into high gear. She needed to warn him before the templars got to him. If she didn't get there first… she didn't even want to think about what would happen.

She raced down to Darktown, almost running right into a group of the mage-hunting warriors. She wasn't exactly thinking straight, and she had to force herself to see past her fears and be smart. Getting herself caught wasn't going to help Anders. She carefully maneuvered her way to the clinic, only to find it empty.

Anders was gone.

"Anders?" she called out in a loud whisper. There was no reply and she panicked. "Anders?!" When there was no answer again, dread crept up her spine, and she felt like she was going to retch. Anders was _gone_, the templars took him and they would kill him or worse and—

Movement behind her attracted her attention, and she whirled around, staff in hand, electricity dancing between her fingertips. As soon as she saw it was only Anders, she let out a breath of relief and relaxed, lowering her staff and letting her magic fade.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyes wide as he stepped up to her.

"I overheard the templars talking about coming here," Olivia started. "I thought—"

He didn't give her the chance to finish, dragging her away as templars approached the clinic, their voices growing louder by the second. Anders pulled her into a hidden fissure in the wall, obscured from anyone who wasn't looking for it or didn't know where it was.

The little crevice was cramped and dark, the two mages a hairs breadth from each other, even with their backs against opposite walls. Olivia could hear her heart thumping loudly in her chest, not just because of the templars just outside. The other reason for her erratic heartbeat focused on listening for the templars, seemingly unaware of what he was doing to her.

She didn't calm down until Anders did, his gaze falling on her. She averted her eyes from his, trying to ignore the fact that they were so close together. _Maker_, she shouldn't be thinking of such things when they had just been in such danger.

"I think they're gone, he said quietly. "But we should stay hidden a while longer to be safe."

Olivia nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear and tentatively glancing back at him. His brow was furrowed and he didn't look very pleased. "Anders?"

"Why did you come here?" he asked, almost accusingly.

"I wanted to warn you about the templars."

"If they had seen you using magic they would have killed you."

"I'd like to see them try," she scoffed.

"Liv, I'm serious," he said, exasperated. "If something had happened to you…"

She gasped, her eyes wide. "You were _worried_ about me, weren't you?"

Anders hesitated, but finally nodded. "Yes," he murmured. "Of course I was worried about you."

"Maker, Anders, why do you think I came here? I was worried about you, too," Olivia said. She swallowed hard, the memory of how terrified she felt still fresh in her mind. "When I got here and I couldn't find you… I was so scared." she started, her eyes on his.

"Olivia—"

"No, let me finish," she interrupted. "I thought I'd lost you. That they had taken you and killed you… or worse."

Anders sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she muttered. "I'm just so glad you're okay."

He didn't respond, but she could see he his mind working, as if he were trying to decide something. Her gaze drifted down to his lips, and she quickly looked back up to his eyes, hoping he hadn't noticed—but the look he gave her said he did. They stared at each other, neither of them daring to move, until Olivia couldn't take it anymore. She thought she almost lost him—her friend, the one man she could be herself around, the man she _cared_ for—and she needed him to understand that. He needed to know how much he meant to her.

So she grabbed him by the coat and pulled him close, pressing her lips to his.

He stiffened at first, tense and unmoving, but then he kissed her back—_Maker, he kissed her back_—and it was better than she'd imagined it would be. She forgot about the templars, about everything, except how _right_ it felt to be in his arms, lips locked together.

When she pulled back Anders continued to stare at her, almost in awe. Olivia held her breath, waiting for him to say something, _anything_. He frowned, his brows knitting together, and her stomach dropped. He pulled his hands from her, hers falling from his coat as he pressed himself back against the wall, as far away from her as he could possibly get in the cramped space.

"Anders, no," she whispered, shaking her head. She reached for him again, but he caught her wrist, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Olivia, we can't," he breathed, not meeting her eyes.

"Look at me," she demanded, and he reluctantly obeyed. "You kissed me back. You can't tell me that you don't feel something for me."

"I… I don't."

"You're lying!" she said, almost whining. She could see it all over his face.

"We could never have anything," he said firmly. He released her wrist and she let it drop to her side. "I don't want to hurt you, Liv."

"That's exactly what you're doing," she said before storming away. He called after her but she ignored him, too angry and ashamed to face him. He'd rejected her, and it broke her heart.

…

She came to the clinic, days later, still longing for him despite everything he said. They came to an unspoken agreement: the kiss never happened. Things were awkward at first, but they quickly slipped back into the friendship they had before. If all she could be to him was his friend, she would take it, because it was better than not having him in her life. But there was still a part of her that hoped that one day they could be more.


	5. For the Sake of Safekeeping

**For the Sake of Safekeeping**

This takes place right before Act 2.

* * *

Anders was taking a shortcut down to Darktown when he heard it. That _laugh_, the laugh that haunted his dreams, the laugh he strove to hear every day—Olivia's laugh. He would recognize that melodious sound anywhere.

He rounded the corner of the alleyway, fully expecting to find Olivia making jokes with one of their friends. He did _not_ expect to find her in the company of a _Templar_.

Anders panicked at the sight, Olivia's back against the wall of the alley, the Templar advancing on her. Why wasn't she fighting back? Maker, where was her staff? Whatever the reason, he didn't have time to worry about it, because he was not about to let a Templar get his hands on her. He took the staff from his back, Justice stirring within him as he prepared to attack the armored warrior.

He barely took a step towards them when she laughed again, and he froze, confused. Anders watched as the Templar closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. He waited for the moment when she'd angrily push him away, but it never came… Olivia _kissed him back_.

All the air rushed out of his lungs at the sight of the woman he loved kissing another man—a_Templar_. Jealousy and anger and _hurt_, swelled within him, Justice whispering accusations in the back of his mind.

_She was a distraction who would never love you. She betrayed you. She is a traitor to all mages._

With an angry growl, he partially lost control of the spirit inside him as he advanced on the two still lip-locked against the wall.

Olivia abruptly pulled back, whipping her head towards him, her blue eyes wide as they landed on his. She gasped and shoved the Templar away from her, cautiously stepping towards Anders. She went to speak but the Templar grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him, pointing his sword directly at Anders.

"Stay behind me, it's an abomination!" the Templar shouted, only infuriating both Anders and the spirit raging inside him. Olivia darted out from behind the metal-clad man, putting herself in front of Anders, arms held out in a protective gesture.

"Marc, don't hurt him," she said, and the man furrowed his brow.

"Get away from him!" he replied quickly, eyes darting between her and Anders. "He's an abomination, he'll kill you!"

"He would never hurt me like that," she stated, so sure in her words. The sincerity in her tone—the way she believed in him—allowed Anders to wrestle control back from Justice. He realized that while she meant what she said, there was still a tremor in her voice. Without Justice distracting him with thoughts of "traitor" and "betrayal," Anders picked up on the slightest of charges in the air… she was unconsciously drawing mana to herself out of _fear_.

But it was too late to do anything to help her. The Templar was shaking his head, brow furrowed as he tried to understand what was going on. Marc's gaze dropped, his eyes widening as he slowly started to back away from the two of them.

"You're a _mage_?" he asked, accusingly, and Olivia glanced down to her hands, sparks of electricity dancing over her fingertips. She regained control of her magic, the electricity fizzling out as she brought her hands up in a defensive position.

"Marc, please—"

"Oh, Maker!" the Templar started, clearly terrified of the two of them. "When the others find out—"

"That's not going to happen," Olivia said, the air around them shifting again as she readied her magic.

"You can't stop me!" He went to run, but she moved faster, extending her arm and lifting him up with telekinetic force.

"I'm sorry, Marc," she murmured before flicking her wrist, sending the man flying at the alley wall, his armor clanging loudly as he hit the surface and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Liv—"

"Don't!" she snapped, whirling around to face him. She was angry, electricity menacingly crackling over her arms as she stared at him, her chest heaving. "Dammit, Anders, you ruined_everything_!"

"I thought you were in danger!"

She furrowed her brow, expecting him to say something else. "I was _fine_. I had everything under control I just—"

"You were kissing him!" he shouted, and she winced at his words. "How could you, Liv? A_Templar_? How could you betray your own people for a _Templar_?"

In an instant she was angry again, glaring daggers at him. "Is that what you think that was?" she practically growled. "You think I _enjoyed_ that? That I _wanted_ that?"

"Was he… forcing himself on you?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet. Justice stirred within him again as he glanced over to the unconscious Templar. If he had done anything she didn't want, Maker help him, he would rip him apart with his bare hands.

Seeing where his thoughts were going, Olivia stepped closer to Anders, gently placing her hands on his chest. "Anders, look at me," she ordered, and he listened, his eyes meeting hers. "He didn't force himself on me. I chose…" She sighed, looking for the right words. "I did this for you," she breathed.

"I don't understand," he replied, brows knitting together.

"How do you think your patients were getting such accurate information on when the Templars were going to raid Darktown?" she asked, pausing a moment for her meaning to sink in. "I was using him for _information_."

Anders took a step back from her, her hands falling to her sides. "There had to be other ways of getting that information," he started. "Why would… why would you put yourself through that… for me?"

She huffed and shook her head. "You don't get it," she whispered. "How can you still not get it?"

It was the hurt in her voice that gave it away—the same hurt he heard every time he turned down her romantic gestures. She was doing it to protect him, because of her feelings for him. Maker, the woman was willing to put herself in danger, to do Maker knows what _with a Templar_, just to keep him safe. While he didn't approve or like her methods, the intentions behind them only made him love her more.

And now he had to turn her away _again_. He had to break her heart, and in turn his, _again_.

"Olivia, you know we can't…" he started cautiously, steeling himself for the same pained expression on her face he saw every time he said those words.

"But I lo—" She stopped herself before she finished that statement, his heart painfully constricting at what it meant. "Anders, I _know_ you care about me," she breathed, tentatively reaching up to place her hand on his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch even though he knew he shouldn't have. "It's been almost three years. Please. I can't take it anymore. Am I supposed to wait on you forever?" Her voice broke spoke, and his heart with it.

Anders opened his eyes and met her desperate, pleading gaze. He wanted so much to give in to her, to tell her how he really felt, to beg her forgiveness for making her wait for so long, but he _couldn't_. It was _his_ way of protecting _her_; hurting her in this way was better than the alternatives.

"You're right… you shouldn't wait anymore," he said quietly, and her face lit up, her brilliant blue eyes practically glowing as a beautiful smile spread across her face. He removed her hand from his face and stepped back, unable to keep her gaze when her expression fell again. "Stop waiting, Liv."

"Look at me when you say that," she spat, and he hesitated, not wanting to see that _hurt_ on her face. "Look at me, Anders!"

He snapped his gaze to hers, using all of his will to keep a straight face as he stared at her. "Don't wait for me anymore. Move on, find someone else," he said, even as the mere thought of her loving another man tore him apart inside. The memory of her lips pressed to that Templars' was still fresh in his mind, and he wanted so badly to taste her kiss again, to erase the traces of that templar and any other man and replace it with his own for as long as they lived. But he couldn't risk it.

"Anders, _please_—"

"I don't feel anything for you!" Anders shouted, and she gasped. He had never lied to her about the way he felt. It made him sick to his stomach to do so, but maybe it would be the one thing that finally made her understand. Olivia just stared at him, mouth agape, eyes wide, until she swallowed hard, pursing her lips and glaring at him.

"Fine. If that's how you _really_ feel," she said, anger radiating off her in waves. "Maybe I _will_ go find someone else. Maybe it'll be another Templar, and who knows, maybe it will be real this time."

Anders knew she didn't mean it, but it still tore at his already broken heart. She stormed off, visibly trying to control her magic from flaring up.

"Liv, that's not what I meant!" he called out after her, and she stopped, turning back to glare at him.

"What does it matter?" She shook her head and sighed. "You've made things very clear. I think I'm going to take a few days off from the clinic… I just… I need some time to think." Olivia held his gaze, longing in her eyes, until she finally left for good.

Anders wanted to go after her, but he didn't, heading back down to Darktown like he originally planned. He prayed to the Maker that she wouldn't get herself killed in the days they would spend apart… because if he lost her, it would surely kill him.


	6. Temptation

**Temptation**

* * *

When Olivia arrived at Anders' clinic, he was sitting down on an empty cot, hunched over with his head in his hands. She cautiously approached him, and at the sound of her footsteps, he sat up, lifting his head and meeting her gaze. When he saw it was just her and not a patient, he sighed, slumping forward again.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting on the cot next to him.

"Things just keep getting worse," he said, frowning. "I had templars practically on my doorstep last night."

"What?" she breathed, alarmed. "They were hunting you?"

"Not me specifically. They were just checking the refugee camps." Olivia let out a breath of relief, and he sighed, shaking his head. "But it's not like this place is a secret. It's only a matter of time."

"Don't say that," she said, and his eyes found hers. "We'll find a way to keep them off you. I'll lock you up in my cellar if I have to."

Anders huffed, smirking at her, and she tried not to think about the way her stomach flipped when he smiled at her like that. "Sweetheart, I'm not letting anyone lock me up, you included," he said. She let out a short laugh, smiling back at him. He stared at her for a moment longer before looking away, his expression serious again. "The knight-commander is out of control. Even her own people have been talking about it," he started. "The curfews. The midnight raids on mages' families. Everyone I know, forced into hiding so they won't be made Tranquil."

Olivia suppressed a shiver at the thought. Being made Tranquil was one of her greatest fears. She remembered what Karl had said all that time ago, and like him she would rather die than live like that—as would Anders. The thought of Anders made Tranquil, the sunburst brand of the Chantry on his forehead… it made her sick. The Templars could never find him.

"If they come here for you, they'll have to go through me," she said, determined to protect him.

Anders quickly sat up and turned to face her directly, his brows furrowed. "You're at as much risk as I am. That's what I worry," he replied, almost desperately. "What if your money and position aren't enough? What if the knight-commander turns on you?" He shook his head, his hands finding hers as his fearful gaze bore right into her eyes. "Everything I've done to control this… I don't care. I would drown us in blood to keep you safe."

"As would I." She pulled her hand from his, only to tentatively run her fingers across his cheek. He didn't pull away, instead surprising her by leaning into her touch. "I would destroy anything and anyone for you," she started, his brows knitting together. "But right now, we're safe. I don't want to see you lose yourself… to the templars or Justice."

"How much is left if you strip both those out?" Anders said, voice filled with anger. He pulled away from her and she let her hands fall to her lap. He let out a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I can't be anyone but who I am."

"I'm not asking you to be anyone else," Olivia muttered. "I like you the way you are."

"There will be more violence. I know that. If you tie yourself to me, I'll only hurt you."

"Anders," she said quietly. "I—"

"I mean it, Liv," he interrupted, standing up and turning his back on her. And there it was; he was pushing her away. Again.

Olivia wanted to scream and burn something. When would he learn that she'd already tied herself to him? That she didn't care if there was more violence? For three years she'd stood by his side, and she wasn't about to leave just because things would get harder. Maker, she'd fallen in love with the stubborn fool, and she _couldn't_ leave, even if she wanted to. How could he not see that?

"Don't you get it?!" she shouted, shooting up from the cot. Startled, he whirled around to face her and she stepped right up to him, as close as she could get without him backing away. She looked him right in the eye and he didn't dare look away. "I am _not_ going to abandon you because things are going to get more dangerous."

"Olivia—"

"No!" She huffed, frustrated. "Do you want to know what would hurt me? _Losing you._" His eyes widened at her words, and she shook her head, sighing in exasperation. "_Nothing_ would hurt as much as losing you."

"You don't want to do this…"

"Do not tell me what I want to do," she breathed. She was tired of his warnings and rejections, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted him to let her in.

Anders swallowed hard, still staring at her, seemingly at a loss for words. After a moment, he furrowed his brows, making up his mind. "I never thought I would meet another mage like you, another apostate. That I would—" He stopped himself and shook his head, looking away from her. "Don't tempt me. Not unless you're ready for what that means."

"Anders," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. He still refused to look at her, so she gently placed her hand back on his face. He stood frigid beneath her touch, and she thought he was going to pull away, but by some holy miracle from the Maker, he didn't. He brought his troubled gaze back upon her, his eyes not leaving hers as he waited for her to speak. "I _am_ ready for what that means. I've _been_ ready," Olivia said softly.

He brought his hand up over hers, and she let herself smile the tiniest bit at the hope that flared up within her. Then she was suddenly nervous, and she went to tuck her hair behind her ear but Anders beat her to it, lightly brushing his fingers across her cheek as he did so. She gasped at the unexpected contact, his gaze dropping to her lips, hers doing the same as he started to lean in closer and closer, slowly closing the distance between them. Her heart hammered in her chest at the ghost of his breath across her lips, her eyes fluttering closed.

Just before their mouths met, a commotion at the entrance of the clinic interrupted them. Anders swiftly pulled away to assess the situation, leaving her standing there shocked and alone. Olivia let out a breath she didn't realize she was even holding, stupidly staring off into space, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus again.

Anders called her name, and she snapped out of it, helping him deal with his new patient, a seriously injured young man who had apparently gotten caught up in the middle of a dangerous brawl. Anders' eyes met hers for a brief second, and the heat in his gaze caught her off guard. She felt her cheeks flush and she quickly tore her eyes away, trying not to think about what had almost transpired between them. Olivia forced herself to pay attention to the task at hand—they had a life to save.


	7. Complicated

**Complicated**

This takes place in the beginning of Act 2, very shortly after _Temptation_.

* * *

"The templars were sniffing around my place yesterday," Anders said in a hushed tone. Olivia froze, lest she accidentally ruin the potions she was working on. "I barely slipped out the back in time." Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she put the ingredients down and looked up, meeting his gaze.

"This is the second time in a week."

"It's possible I may need somewhere else to go. In the near future," he replied. "I was thinking I could stay at the Hanged Man until—"

"Absolutely not!" Anders quirked an eyebrow at her, and she sighed, trying to calm her raging emotions. The templars hunting Anders was a sure fire way to get her revved up—and nervous. "The Hanged Man is a public place," Olivia continued, explaining herself. "Templars could raid it anytime they want."

"They haven't yet."

"They will if they hear a mage is staying there."

"Where else can I go?" Anders asked, dejected.

"You can stay with me," Olivia muttered, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Liv, I can't… I couldn't impose…"

"You're not imposing, I'm inviting you to stay with us," she said. "I'm sure Mother won't mind, and it'll be good for Orana and Bodahn to have someone else to fuss over." She could see him mulling the idea over in that handsome head of his. "Please, Anders. I worry about you down here."

"You're not going to let me say no, are you?" he asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Olivia grinned at him. "I _did_ say I would lock you in my cellar if I had to…"

He let out a short laugh and smirked at her. "And I told you I wasn't letting anyone lock me up, you included."

She stepped up to him with a sly smile, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him. "You must not know me if you think you'd actually be able to stop me from doing just that."

"Oh, I know you, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle, moving closer to her. "You'd knock me out and drag me there yourself."

She huffed. "Well, I can't exactly knock you out if you're prepared for it."

"You're resourceful. I'm sure you would find some way to distract me first."

"Distract you, hmm?" Olivia held his playful gaze, painfully aware of just how close they were. She uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her side, inching forward just the _tiniest _bit. "And what exactly would distract you?" she murmured, her gaze darting down to his lips before returning to his eyes.

Anders licked his lips, and _Maker_, she just wanted to grab him and kiss him senseless. She held back, not wanting to push him into anything, her heart beating loudly in her ears. He'd been so close to kissing her the other day, and she didn't want to ruin things now by forcing his hand.

So she waited, his gaze boring into hers, seconds feeling like hours as they passed by. His lips parted, his eyes flitting down to her lips, and she held her breath, yearning to finally taste his kiss again.

But it never happened.

Anders sighed and turned away, running a hand through his hair. Olivia slumped against the table, defeated and frustrated. Did the Maker enjoy taunting her like this? She wouldn't be able to stand it much longer—three years was long enough.

"We should finish, these potions," he said, not meeting her eyes. She watched him for a moment, wishing he would stop holding back when it came to the two of them. She sighed, returning to work beside him. One day he'd let her in… she hoped.

…

"You don't have to do this," Anders said eying the front door of her estate warily.

Olivia finished unlocking the door and looked at him over her shoulder, smiling at him. "Yes, I do. I'm not going to let you get caught by templars when you can just stay here for a night or two." He let out a deep breath, seeming almost anxious.

"Liv—"

"Oh, come on," she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. She pulled him into the main room and watched his eyes widen as he took in its extravagance. "It's a little excessive, I know, but it's home. Most importantly, it's safe." Anders turned his gaze back on her, a small smile gracing his lips.

"You're home," came her mother's voice. Olivia looked towards Leandra, who was regarding Anders with a curious expression. Her eyes traveled down to where their hands were still joined, and they both quickly pulled away, embarrassed.

"Mother, you remember Anders," Olivia said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Yes, of course." She smiled warmly at him, and Olivia relaxed.

"He's going to be staying the night."

"I'll have Bodahn ready up a guest room," she replied. "There's some leftovers from dinner in the larder if you're hungry."

"Got it." She started to lead Anders towards the kitchen, when her mother called out for her.

"Yes?" Leandra took her daughter aside, glancing towards their visitor.

"Make sure you feed him well. He looks a bit thin."

Olivia let out a small laugh, smiling. "Trust me, I will."

Leandra shooed her away, and she took Anders down to the kitchen. She managed to get him to eat quite liberally—after practically shoving the food in his face. Olivia almost didn't want their late dinner to end. They enjoyed themselves and she liked having him there, in her home. She would take any extra time with him that she could get.

When they finished, she showed him to his room, one of the spare rooms right down the hall from hers.

"Well, if you need anything, just give Bodahn or Orana a call," she said.

"I will," he replied with a nod. Anders went to open the door to his room but stopped, turning his attention back to her. "Thank you, Liv. This… means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." She smiled at him, resisting the urge to brush back the little flyaway hairs framing his face. "Goodnight, Anders," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Olivia."

She turned and started walking the short distance to her own room, looking back over her shoulder at him one last time. He was standing in his doorway, a smile lighting up his face when he met her gaze. She smiled back before ducking into her room, closing the door behind her and letting out a dreamy sigh. _Maker_, he would be the death of her.

Olivia changed into a loose tunic and pants, letting down her hair and quickly running a brush through it before falling into bed. She got comfortable, but for the life of her, she couldn't fall asleep—thanks to thoughts of a certain blond mage invading her mind.

It wasn't an unusual occurrence. She often found herself thinking of him when he wasn't around, but she figured that was what happened when you loved someone. And she _loved_him. If anything were to happen to him—no, she couldn't think about such things. She should think about happier things, like the way he gave all of himself to his patients, never turning anyone away, helping them to the best of his ability. She loved watching him heal, was still fascinated by the way his brow would furrow in concentration, eyes focused on his task. He was always so gentle with his patients, especially the children and the elderly, and it always brought a grin to her face.

Olivia knew first hand what it was like to be under his care. She would never admit it, but she'd "accidentally" hurt herself on more than one occasion just so she would have an excuse to heal her. The warmth from his magic always sent tingles down her spine, as did the soft touch of his hands when he inspected and cleaned her wounds. _Sweet blood of Andraste_, what she would give to feel those hands sliding over her bare skin, touching her in all the right places…

Feeling her cheeks flush, she stopped that line of thinking before she started imagining things that wouldn't allow her to look at Anders without blushing for a week.

Yes, the damned mage would definitely be the death of her.

She was trying to think about anything but those hands and the wonders they could no doubt elicit when a quiet knock sounded at her door. She scurried out of bed and pattered across her room to answer the door. Anders was there, his hair disheveled and loose, feet bare, and lacking his feathered coat.

"I can't sleep," he said with a slight shake of his head.

"Are you all right?" Olivia asked, concerned.

"Yes… no." He looked away from her and huffed, running his hand through his hair before pinning her with an intense stare that made her stomach flip. "I can't stop thinking about you, Liv."

"What?" she breathed, eyes widening in shock.

Anders stepped up closer to her, crossing the threshold into her room. "I can't sleep because I'm thinking about you," he said, a little breathlessly. "I've been thinking about you for three years and I can't… I can't just _think_ about you anymore."

Before she had a chance to respond, he closed the distance between them, grabbing either side of her face and pulling her into a kiss. Olivia instantly melted against him, kissing him back, elated and nervous at the same time. He'd _finally_ given in and she didn't want him stop and run away again.

Things heated up quickly, and Olivia found herself pushed against the wall next to her door, Anders' body pressed up against hers. She aimlessly waved her hand out to the side, trying to close the door, but she was too wrapped up Anders to actually get the thing closed… and she didn't even care. _He was finally kissing her again_.

He abruptly pulled back, gazing right into her eyes as they both panted, and dread settled in the pit of her stomach. This was it. He was going to leave her again.

"I love you," Anders murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. Olivia gasped, completely taken aback. He loved her? _Maker's breath, he loved her!_ The biggest grin spread across her face, her heart swelling with joy.

"Maker, Anders, I love you, too," she said, trying not to _shout_ it. She'd waited _so long_ to say those words to him. He let out a breath of relief and smiled before his lips found hers again.

In a matter of moments, they'd stumbled over to her bed, shedding clothing as they went. Anders laid her down on her back and crawled over her, pressing gentle kisses to her neck. Olivia bit back a moan and threaded her fingers through his hair as he worked his way down lower, his fingers curling around the hem of her smalls. Her chest heaved and her stomach quivered as lips moved down past her navel, anticipation and desire clouding her mind.

She was so distracted that she barely registered the sound of the dog scratching on the door, begging for entry into her room. But hadn't she been unable to close the door?

Olivia shot her eyes open and jerked upright in her bed, her brows furrowing at the sight before her. Her door _was_ closed, the dog _was_ scratching it from outside, and Anders was_ not_with her. _The entire thing had been a dream._

Resisting the urge to _scream_, she let out a frustrated groan and fell back on her bed. She stared up at the canopy, trying to calm herself while the dog scratched away at her door. Leave it to a damn dream to get her all hot and bothered—like the real Anders didn't _already_do that. Not to mention that it was a really _good_ dream that had ended right before the _best_part.

She huffed and got up, angrily stomping over to the door to let the dog in. The mabari excitedly ran into her room and hopped up on the bed, watching her and waiting for her to join him. She shook her head and left, the dog letting out a whine that she ignored as she made her way down to the kitchen for a nice glass of _cold_ water.

Before she rounded the corner into the room, she heard someone moving around inside and panicked. Bodahn, Orana, and her mother's doors were all closed, indicating they'd already went to sleep. Olivia conjured up a ball of flame in her hand and burst into the room, ready to attack whoever was actually stupid enough to try and steal from them.

The shadowy figure whirled around, the flames in her hand illuminating his face.

"Damn it, Anders, I thought you were a thief!" she harshly whispered, extinguishing the fire in her hand.

"Sorry," he muttered, and she huffed, starting to light a few candles around the room. When she turned back around to face him, she quirked an eyebrow at the sight before her. He was standing there, fork in hand, with an apple pie on the counter in front of him. His hair was loose and he was also wearing the same thing he had in her dream—before all the clothes came off. But, he wasn't about to eat _pie_ in her dream…

Blushing immediately at where her thoughts were going, Olivia cleared her throat and quickly got herself that glass of cold water.

"So, you couldn't sleep?" she asked before downing the entire thing in one gulp.

"No," Anders replied, eyeing her suspiciously. "Are you all right? You look warm. You might be coming down with something." He moved to inspect her more closely, but she waved him off.

"I'm fine," she said, grappling for an excuse. "Fluffy was sleeping on top of me again. That mabari is like a furnace."

"You let him sleep in your bed?" Anders asked with a grimace, and she nodded. "That's disgusting."

Olivia let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes. His gaze drifted down to the pie in front of him, though he didn't move to eat any of it. "Apple pie, huh?"

"If it's all right?" he said, his eyes landing on hers again, uncertainty in them.

"I said you could have whatever you wanted, and I meant it," she replied with a smile, and he relaxed. "But I'm having some of that, too." Grabbing another fork, she stood next to him, both mages digging into the pie. "I never knew you liked apple pie."

"My mother used to make apple pie," he said quietly. Olivia stopped eating and looked up at him, a sad expression on his face. She reached up and tentatively brushed his hair from his face. He didn't pull away, thank the Maker, and turned his gaze on her.

"Do you miss her?" she whispered.

"Yes." His brows knit together and he frowned. "I used to wish I had been born without magic, so I would have never been taken from my home."

"You shouldn't have had to wish that." Olivia lifted her hand and let sparks of electricity dance between her fingertips, a small smile on her lips. "You should be proud of your magic. At least, that's what my father used to say."

"Your father was right," he replied, conjuring up his own bout of sparks, making her smile even more. "I am proud of my magic… now."

"I just wish we didn't have to hide something we're proud of." She let her magic fade, Anders following suit. "At least I don't have to hide it with you," she said softly, her eyes meeting his. He stared at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, until he suddenly furrowed his brows and looked away from her. _Typical_. She went to return to her room, stopping in the doorway when he called out for her.

"Liv, wait!"

She shook her head and turned to face him. "Anders, don't." She sighed, not bothering to try and hide the longing in her eyes when she looked at him. "Enjoy the rest of the pie. I'll see you in the morning."

She swallowed hard and left him alone, returning to her room and burying herself under a pile of blankets next to Fluffy. She may not have had to hide her magic around him, but she did have to hide her feelings, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

…

The next morning, things were still tense between the two mages. They didn't speak until Anders bid her goodbye, an apologetic look on his face. She sighed as she watched him leave, her mother approaching her after he was gone.

"What's going on between you two?" she asked, and Olivia turned to her mother, horrified.

"Nothing is going on. Anders is my friend," she replied a little too quickly. Leandra quirked an eyebrow at her daughter, and Olivia shook her head, giving up. She could never hide such things from her mother before, so there was no use in hiding it now. "I… care for him," she said, sadly, not willing to admit just how much she cared. She remembered her dream, how he'd said he loved her and how happy it made her to hear those words leave his mouth. But she hadn't really heard them. It had just been a dream, not reality. "Nothing will ever come of it," she added.

"Why not? I've seen the way he looks at you," Leandra said, and she huffed.

"It doesn't mean anything. He doesn't care for me, not like that." Olivia frowned. "I don't know. He says he doesn't"

"Then the boy is lying."

She cracked a smile and shook her head. "It's complicated, all right?"

"Falling in love with an apostate always is," her mother said with a wistful smile. Leandra wrapped her arm around Olivia's shoulders, and she leaned into her mother's side. "I'll tell you one thing, darling. He's missing out on a wonderful woman."

Olivia smiled at her mother, feeling less horrible than she did before. "Thanks, Mother."

"You're welcome, dear."


	8. Afterglow

**Afterglow**

* * *

Olivia stared up at the canopy of her bed, biting back a grin as Anders rolled off of her and lay beside her. They both took a moment to come down from their high, their hearts beating rapidly in their heaving chests, a layer of sweat covering their skin.

Anders was the first to move, turning onto his side to stare at her. She met his gaze, and couldn't hold back her smile anymore.

"So… that was even better than I imagined," she said, shifting her body to face him.

He let out a short laugh, his hand finding her hip, fingers lightly tracing over her skin. "Better, huh?"

"Yes." Olivia huffed, resting her hand on his chest. "And that's saying something, because I had already imagined it would be pretty damn good."

Anders laughed again before leaning in and kissing her. She pressed her body up against his as he pulled her close, reveling in the feel of his bare skin touching hers. She got lost in the moment until a particular thought crossed her mind, and she abruptly pulled back, her eyes wide as unease settled in the pit of her stomach.

"What is it? Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, I'm fantastic… I just… you…" She hesitated, unsure how to phrase her little question. "What about Justice?" she whispered, as if that would prevent the spirit from hearing it—if he was listening, that is. _Was_ he listening? Anders wasn't glowing or anything, but he'd mentioned that he and Justice were one… Maker, was the spirit… _present_… during their previous exertions? Olivia grew more unsettled as her mind ran away with unpleasant ideas.

"Justice," Anders began carefully, "does not approve of my obsession with you."

"Obsession?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He shot her that smirk of his, and it calmed her apprehension about the whole situation. "He believes you're a distraction. It is one of the few things on which he and I disagree."

"A distraction… right…" It didn't do much to assuage her fears. Anders went to kiss her again, but she stopped him, nervously meeting his gaze. "How exactly does this all work with him involved?"

He sighed, trying to pick the right words to explain it all. "Justice is a part of me. He's always there, in the back of my mind," he began. "But now he's… quiet."

"Oh, that's good," Olivia said with a breath of relief.

"Yes, it is."

She smiled at him and he smiled back, closing the distance between them once again. When they broke for air, she let out a small giggle.

"Hopefully now I won't be so much of a distraction—I'm sorry—_obsession _for you," she muttered, starting to run her fingers through his hair. He grinned that damned smirk of his again, tightening his grip on her.

"Now that I know what it's like to be with you, I doubt I will think of little else," he pointed out. He made a _very_ good point. Anders' expression became serious, and Olivia's brows knit together.

"What's wrong?"

"For three years I have lain awake every night, aching for you," he said, cupping her face with his hand. "I'm still terrified I'll wake up."

She placed her hand over his, shaking her head. "This isn't a dream. This is real and wonderful and right and… and I love you, Anders." She let out a short puff of breath and smiled at him. "I love you."

He looked almost relieved at her words, his lips quirking up the tiniest bit. "I love you, too, Liv," he said quietly, and she felt her heart swell with joy. She'd waited _so long_ to hear those words. "I've been holding back from saying that. You should have a normal life, not be tied down to a fugitive with no future." He was looking at her almost desperately now, like he was still afraid she would disappear. "But I don't ever want to leave you," he finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Then don't leave." Olivia took his hand from her face and brought it to her chest, over her heart. She ran her thumb over his stubbled cheek, the tips of her other fingers just brushing against his loose hair. "My life has never been normal. I've always had to look over my shoulder and hide who I am… except when I'm with you." She took a deep breath, her gaze drifting over his handsome face before returning to his eyes. "Besides, at this rate, I'm bound to end up just as much a fugitive as you."

Anders went to speak, no doubt to protest the danger she was putting herself in as he always did, but she was quicker, interrupting him before he could even say a word. "I am going to stay by your side, _no matter what_," she breathed, fixing him with an intense stare. "We're in this together, Anders… and I want you right here with me until the day we die."

She'd barely seen the joyous effect her reassurance had on him before his lips were on hers again. His kisses were relentless and passionate, and she could _feel_ how much her words meant to him in every one. He whispered his thanks and love, and she returned it with just as much fervor. Olivia had been holding her feelings back for _three years_… and now that she didn't have to anymore, it was like a floodgate had opened. She could finally be with the man she loved, the man who knew her and loved her for who she really was, mage and all. It was the best feeling in the world.


	9. Tongue-Tied

**Tongue-Tied**

* * *

Olivia couldn't focus on Wicked Grace _at all_. She was too distracted by the blond mage beside her.

It had been three days since they'd first been together, and _Maker_ it was all she could think about. She wanted to drag him back home, rip his clothes off, and have her way with him. They _did_ have three years to catch up on, after all.

She blankly stared at the cards in her hand, trying—and failing—to focus back on the game. She was imagining the pleasant feeling of Anders' hands sliding over her skin when one of those hands found its way onto her thigh under the table. She froze, not daring to even look at him. If he was giving her _that_ look, the one that made her stomach flip… Andraste have mercy on her, she wouldn't be able to get out of there fast enough before pouncing on him.

His fingers aimlessly traced shapes on her inner thigh, sending pleasurable tingles down her spine. Out of nowhere, he sparked her, the sudden burst of electricity making her yelp in surprise.

"Everything all right, Hawke?" Varric asked from across the table, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Everything's fine!" she replied, her voice higher-pitched than usual. Olivia cleared her throat, chancing a glance at Anders. The damned man met her gaze, mischief dancing in his eyes. She needed to get out of there _now_. "Actually no, everything's not fine," she said, turning her attention back to their friends. "I don't think I'm feeling too well. I should probably go lie down somewhere."

"There's something going around the Alienage," Merrill stated. "I hear it makes you throw up for days."

"I don't think that's what it is, Kitten," Isabela said, smirking as she took a sip of her drink. Fenris frowned and Aveline raised a curious eyebrow.

Anders reached over and felt Olivia's forehead with the back of his hand. "Merrill might be right," he said, furrowing his brows and feigning concern. "You're getting warm."

"That settles it, then. You guys just keep playing without me." She stood up, Anders standing after her.

"I should examine you," he pointed out. "To make sure this isn't serious."

"You can use my room," Isabela offered, an amused look on her face. "I'm sure you'll need some privacy for that _examination_."

"Yes, I intend to be _thorough_," Anders said, his eyes boring into Olivia's. She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze from his.

"Let's go," she muttered before dragging him out of Varric's suite. As soon as they made it through the door, she pulled him into a secluded part of the hallway.

"We're not making it to Isabela's room, are we?" Anders asked, hands on her hips as she tugged him close.

"Maker, no," she breathed, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him into a heated kiss. He pressed himself against her, and she found herself delightfully squeezed between his warm body and the wall at her back. His hands left her hips and moved along her curves, electricity flowing from his fingertips, leaving her at the mercy of his touch. Olivia was putty in his hands.

Anders pulled back, flashing her a quick grin before he buried his face in her neck, kissing and nipping at her sensitive skin. He sent another jolt of electricity through her, this one stronger than the little pinpricks from before. She moaned and arched her back against him, fisting her hand in his hair and digging her fingers into his arm. It made her lose control of her own magic, and a wave of unrestrained electricity surged from her hands. Anders tensed, bowing his head against her and gripping her almost painfully.

"I'm sorry," Olivia breathed, panting, and he chuckled, bringing his face up to meet her worried gaze. He cupped her face with his hand, resting his forehead on hers as he gently rubbed his thumb over her cheek.

"Don't be," he replied, his heaving chest pressing up against hers. "No holding back, remember?"

"I don't want to accidentally hurt you," she mumbled.

Anders smirked at her. "Sweetheart, it'll take a lot more than that to hurt me." Olivia huffed in relief, smiling back at him. "Besides, I like it when you lose control," he said, his voice huskier than normal. With a low growl, his lips crashed down on hers, devouring her in a hungry kiss. He ground his hips against hers, and _Maker_, he _did_ like it when she lost control.

They restrained from using more magic, only because their hands were busy ripping open the clasps and buckles keeping their more _essential_ pieces of clothing on. Olivia's hand had just weaseled its way into his pants when a loud voice alerted them to the fact that they weren't alone anymore.

"I knew it!" Isabela shouted. The two mages jerked their lips apart, pulling their hands back from the inappropriate places they'd been. Olivia looked towards the sound of the pirate's voice, her stomach dropping when she saw that she wasn't alone—Varric was standing right next to her.

"All right, Rivaini," the dwarf started. "I'll admit that I lost, just this once." Varric reluctantly handed Isabela a coin purse, and she weighed it in her hand victoriously before turning her attention back to the flustered mages before her.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out about you two?" she asked, and Olivia just stared at her, at a loss for words. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue? _Mage_ got your tongue?" Isabela waggled her eyebrows and Anders shook his head.

"You two actually bet on whether we were… together?" Varric and Isabela exchanged a glance and nodded. "How did you _know_?" Olivia asked incredulously.

"That doesn't matter," Isabela said, stepping up to her and looping her arm through hers as she started to lead her away. "What matters is that you didn't tell me right away. Three years of hopeless pining, and when you finally get him, you don't say a word!"

"We just wanted—"

"So how was it?" Isabela looked back over her shoulder at Anders and grinned before leaning in close to Olivia. "Did he do the electricity thing?" She stopped dead in her tracks, feeling herself blush, while Anders tried not to laugh. The pirate's eyes widened in excitement, and Varric pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "He _did_, didn't he!?"

Varric, Maker bless him, convinced Isabela to give the mages their privacy again, and the two rogues returned to the rest of their friends.

"You know, she's probably telling them about us right now," Anders mused, lacing his fingers with hers as he came to stand beside her.

"We'll never hear the end of it."

"Once you give her what she wants, the excitement will die down."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow at him. "Give her what she wants?"

"Tell her all about the electricity thing," he said with a smirk.

She gasped, her free hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth. "Andraste's tits, if she only knew!" They both started laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. She really was a fool if she thought they could hide their relationship forever. Especially when all she wanted to do was jump his bones. "Well, they were going to find out sooner or later. I would have preferred later, but there's no changing it now," Olivia said. "I'll just threaten to electrify them if they make any smart comments about us."

"As long as you save some sparks for me, sweetheart," Anders replied, and she shot him a wry smile.

"Speaking of that," she started, calling on her magic, electricity jumping between her fingertips. "We should get home and finish what we started."

Conjuring up his own sparks, Anders grinned mischievously at her. "We'd better run."

Olivia giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before they scurried out of The Hanged Man, determined to get back to the estate as quickly as possible.

They barely made it through the front door.


	10. Under the Weather

**Under the Weather**

* * *

Anders gently pushed Olivia back onto the bed, despite her struggling and protests.

"I'm not sick, Anders. Let me go," she demanded in a hoarse voice, attempting to get up_again_.

"No," he simply said, keeping his hands on her shoulders so she couldn't escape. She glared at him, and he could feel her calling upon her magic, electricity charging around her hand until sparks danced between her fingertips.

"I am not afraid to use this," she threatened, sniffling. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she scowled at him. "Fine, you brought this upon yourself." Olivia moved to electrify him, but her magic fizzed away as soon she started violently coughing. Once the hacking fit passed, Anders felt her forehead with the back of his hand, frowning at her raise in body temperature.

"Not sick, huh?"

"Oh, shut it." She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Are you going to stay in bed, now?" he asked, and she still didn't look at him. "Liv?"

"Yes, I'll stay in bed," she muttered. He placed his fingers under her chin, turning her head and forcing her to face him.

"Promise me you won't leave as soon as I turn around."

"I wouldn't," she said, coughing again.

"You did it last time you were sick," he pointed out. "Finding you retching in the middle of the street wasn't the highlight of my day."

She rolled her eyes, sighing. "Fine, I promise I won't leave."

"Good." She sniffled, and Anders placed his hand on her head, healing magic flowing from his fingertips. Olivia's eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed, her arms uncrossing as she settled back against the pillows. When he pulled his hand away she opened her eyes and sniffled again, her nose sounding clearer.

"Oh, Maker, would you look at that, I can _breathe_," she said excitedly.

"You are mad… absolutely mad," Anders murmured affectionately, and she grinned at him, blue eyes twinkling with delight.

"It's why you love me," she replied, before another fit of coughs wracked her body.

"I'm going to make you something for that cough," he said, standing up from the bed. He made sure she was comfortable before leaning in for a kiss, her hands coming up to stop him.

"Don't! You're going to get sick, too," Olivia said. "Then you won't be able to take care of me."

"I see," Anders said with a chuckle. "Now that you've accepted the fact that you're sick, you're going to take advantage of it for as long as you can."

"Who wouldn't?" She smirked at him. "Especially when they have such a handsome healer attending to their every want and need."

"Don't push your luck, sweetheart." He lightly touched his lips to her freckled nose, and she adorably scrunched her face up, her little grimace making him smile.

"That tickles," she said, giggling.

Anders stood up straight and shot her a serious look. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

"I won't."

"You'd better not," he replied, smiling mischievously at her. "Or I might just have to punish you later—when you're feeling better, of course."

She returned his smile with a wry one of her own. "Ooh, what kind of punishment did you have in mind?" She paused to cough and sniffle. "Something _bad_?"

"Don't move and you won't have to find out," he said, and she laughed. Anders pressed a kiss to her forehead, brushing her hair from her face before he left to make her that potion for her throat. When he returned to their room, Olivia was seductively draped against the bedpost, her eyes full of mischief. She had another coughing fit and shot him a roguish grin once she recovered.

"Oops, I seemed to have moved," she started, nonchalantly. "It looks like I'm going to find out about that punishment after all."

Anders huffed and shook his head, smiling back at her. She was mad… completely and utterly mad… and he loved every bit of it.


	11. Dance

**Dance**

* * *

Anders knew Olivia had returned home by the sound of her stomping up the stairs. Leandra had forced her to dress up and go to some fancy party with the other nobles, so Anders stayed home and furiously worked on his manifesto. He'd come up with the most brilliant argument, and was eager to get Olivia's feedback on it, so he left the library to seek her out.

He found her in the hallway, grumbling under her breath as she marched towards their room. Both mages stopped dead in their tracks when they saw each other, but for two entirely different reasons.

Her hair wasn't in its usual ponytail, the brown tresses hanging loose over her shoulders. She was wearing a _dress_—intricate, gold patterns sewn into deep maroon fabric that hugged her body in all the right ways. She'd even put on makeup, her red-painted lips just _begging_ to be kissed. Despite the… un-gracefulness… in which she had carried herself, Anders couldn't take his eyes off her. She was _stunning_.

Olivia stared back at him, blue eyes wide as a blush crept up onto her freckled cheeks. She shifted on her feet, uncomfortable under his gaze, until she snapped.

"Andraste's ass, stop staring at me like that!" she barked, clearly agitated. She was rarely flustered, always confident in what she did, blazing through any obstacles she faced with fire, lightning, and a shit-eating grin. Anders was amused at her sudden self-consciousness, chuckling as he approached her.

He smirked, taking her hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand as he bowed before her. "Lady Hawke… you look beautiful," he said, his gaze never leaving hers. Olivia rolled her eyes and frowned, annoyed by his mocking tone. "You are but a vision of exquisite beauty, my lady. I have never before laid eyes on such a ravishing creature."

"Maker's breath, Anders, you did not just call me a _creature_," she grumbled, swatting him away as he rose from his bow.

"But you are, my lady," he continued, reaching for her. "You have bewitched me, Lady Hawke—I only wish to bask in your ethereal presence for the rest of my days." She smacked his hands away with an irritated groan, pushing past him and into their bedroom. Anders burst into laughter, cackling in the hallway until the sound of the door slamming behind her startled him out of it. He tried to follow her into their room, but she'd locked the door. "Come on, sweetheart, let me in," he called out.

"No."

"I promise I'll stop." He waited for an answer and heard nothing so he added, "Please, love. I mean it."

The door opened a crack, revealing an angry Olivia, her hand threateningly crackling with electricity as she glared at him. "I swear to the Maker, if you try any of that again, I will electrocute your balls off." He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I mean it, Anders, I won't hold back."

"You never do," he quipped, instantly regretting it when she tried to shut the door in his face. He got his foot past the doorframe so she couldn't close it, and she huffed, walking away and giving up on keeping him out of the room. Anders cautiously approached her as she stood in front of the mirror stuffed into the corner of the room, furiously wiping the makeup from her face. He stepped up behind her and pressed his chest against her back, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What's wrong, love?" he murmured, tenderly pressing his lips to her neck.

Olivia let out a deep breath and sagged back against him, resting her arms over his. "The party was _horrible_," she whined. "I felt like everyone was staring at me the whole time, like I didn't belong—which I don't. And I had to dance with a bunch of smelly, old men who _ogled_me the whole time. They couldn't tear their eyes away from my breasts and I just wanted to_burn_ them all."

"To be fair, you have marvelous breasts," Anders pointed out.

"No I don't," she mumbled. "They're too small."

"They're the perfect size," he said, gently nibbling on her neck. "And that dress makes them look fantastic."

"The only reason they look this good is because of the damn corset my mother made me wear. I can't even breathe right in this thing."

"I could help you get out of that corset."

She huffed a laugh before shaking her head and sighing. Anders met her gaze in the mirror, finding her brows knit together.

"I want to be able to go to these parties," Olivia began. "If I can secure my position within the nobility, I can use that power to keep us safe. But I _hate_ going to them." She looked away before meeting his gaze again, her expression softening. "The entire time I was there, dancing with those gross men, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that the only person I would ever_want_ to dance with is you."

Anders smiled at her, whirling her around so she faced him directly. "Well, lucky for you, I know how to dance."

"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up.

"Not exactly," he said. "But it can't be _too_ hard to figure out."

Olivia giggled. "Actually, it is quite hard… and I'm not very good at it."

"Then we'll figure it out together." Anders released her and stepped back, bowing and holding out his hand. "May I have this dance, Lady Hawke?"

She bit back a smile and shot him a playful glare as she took his hand. He led her into the middle of their bedroom before tugging her close, placing his hand at the small of her back, hers resting on his shoulder. He laced the fingers of their other hands together, smirking at her as they started to dance.

They were a whirlwind of disaster, haphazardly spinning around the room and stepping on each other's toes. They laughed so hard they could barely focus on what they were doing, almost tripping over each other on more than one occasion. For their own safety—and that of their bedroom—they settling for simply holding each other close as they swayed back and forth. It was nice having her in his arms like that, their bodies pressed together with her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

"Anders?" she whispered, her breath tickling the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Yes?" he muttered, nuzzling her face with his.

Olivia pulled her head back and met his gaze, a smile on her lips. "I'd like to take you up on your offer to get me out of this corset."

Anders laughed, smiling back at her. "It would be my pleasure, sweetheart."


	12. Nostalgia

**Nostalgia**

* * *

It had been another long day of traipsing around Kirkwall and solving other people's problems. They'd been exhausted when they finally returned home, taking a long, hot bath together before holing up in their room for the night.

Anders was on the verge of sleep, his head pillowed on Olivia's stomach, her fingers running through his loose hair. The gentle scrape of her fingernails across his scalp sent pleasurable tingles down his spine, his body sinking into a state of relaxation.

"Anders?" she murmured, unsure if he was still awake.

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember the day we met?"

He smiled, letting out a short huff. "Like it was yesterday, love," he replied.

She hummed in delight, no doubt smiling that beautiful smile of hers. "I think I fell in love with you right then," Olivia mused.

He cracked an eye open and slightly turned his head so he could see her face. She was indeed grinning, her smile lighting up her face. Anders opened his other eye so he could fully appreciate the sight.

"You didn't know me," he started. "How could you have fallen in love with me?"

She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "You don't believe in love at first sight?"

"That would explain the starry-eyed look in your eyes when I tried to warn you away."

"What did you expect of me?" she said, fighting back more laughter. "You were the first apostate I'd seen since…" Her face fell, brows knitting together as she looked away from him. He knew she meant her sister and her father even though she couldn't say it. Olivia shook her head and took a deep breath before focusing on him again, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You were healing that little boy, and you gave it everything you had," she continued. "You put your entire self into healing him, just like you do with _everyone_. I was amazed, to say the least."

"So it wasn't my good looks and charm that enthralled you?" he joked.

"Oh, that was also a part of it," she said, laughing. "That and the affectionate way you spoke of Ser Pounce-a-lot."

"Ser Pounce-a-lot! I miss that cat." Anders frowned. "Blighted Wardens. I'm not too soft," he bitterly muttered.

"I don't know about that," Olivia started, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She reached out and leaned forward, tapping his bare stomach. "You seem to be gaining some weight."

"You're the one who feeds me!" he said, sitting up and playfully narrowing his eyes at her.

"I know, and it's a good thing I do or you wouldn't eat at all." He rolled his eyes and sat back against the pillows, the lengths of their bodies comfortably pressed together. She shifted onto her side, bringing her lips up to his ear, her fingers aimlessly tracing shapes over his stomach. "Besides, I happen to like pudgy men," she purred, her fingers dipping down below his navel, teasingly toying with the laces of his pants. Olivia nibbled on his earlobe, sparks leaping from her fingertips to his skin.

Anders inhaled sharply, all previous sense of exhaustion vanishing in an instant. He grabbed her hand and flipped her over, pinning her wrists on either side of her head as he settled over her. She squealed, the sound of surprise quickly changing into that of laughter. He was going to make a quip about that "pudgy" remark, but he couldn't, too transfixed by her.

Her hair was fanned out on the pillow below her head, her laughter making her chest heave underneath the shirt of his she was wearing, her bare legs tangling with his own. When she calmed, her bright eyes stared up at him and he could see how happy she was in that moment, and it warmed his heart.

"What?" she asked, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. "Anders, are you all right?"

He smiled at her, her gleeful mood contagious.

"I am now," he said, that beautiful smile returning to her face. Anders closed the distance between them, tenderly pressing his lips to hers, losing himself in her kiss.

He spent the rest of the night in the arms of the woman he loved, thanking the Maker she'd walked into his clinic that fateful day… his life had never been the same since.


	13. Force of Nature

**Force of Nature**

I did some quick research on lightning and I don't know if this would actually work… but who cares, it's _magic_. Also, since Hawke totally shot fire _and_ lightning out of the Staff of Parthalan (the staff Olivia uses) in the Destiny trailer, a staff which technically does fire damage in-game, I headcanon that mages can shoot whatever magic they want out of their staves, and whatever type of staff it is just boosts that type of magic over the others.

* * *

The loud, rumbling boom of thunder jerked Olivia awake, her body tensing at the sudden sound. As startled as she was, it took her a few seconds to realize what was going on and that she was in the safety of her own home, curled up in bed with a rather handsome mage.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's just thunder," Anders murmured, rubbing his hand up and down her back to soothe her. She sighed and burrowed into his embrace, enjoying the feeling and warmth of his skin pressed against hers.

"Being a light sleeper is great when you're living on the run," she said, her voice hoarse from sleep. "Now… not so much." Anders chuckled, and she smiled at the sound. "I didn't zap you, did I?" she asked cautiously. She tended to accidentally summon up sparks when startled awake, and she'd zapped him on more than one occasion because of it.

"No," he replied, pressing a kiss to her hair. With that settled, she let herself relax again. The soft pitter-patter of rain hitting the windows and his steady breaths and heartbeat almost lulled her to sleep again… until she realized that rain was _bad_.

Olivia pulled her face back from the crook of his neck and met his gaze, her eyes wide. "We were supposed to have a picnic today!" she whined. "You were supposed to be _mine_ all day, and now our plans are ruined!" She let out an annoyed huff. "You're going to drag us down to the clinic now, aren't you?"

"I promised you that we would spend the day together, and I intend on keeping that promise," Anders said, smiling softly at her.

She shot him a mischievous grin, having already thought of a back-up plan. "It's the perfect weather to stay in bed all day…"

He smirked at her, lightly brushing her sleep-mussed hair from her face. "I like that idea." She giggled and pressed her lips to his, barely hearing the thunder in the distance as she lost herself in his kiss. Anders abruptly pulled back just as things were starting to heat up, his eyes alight with excitement. "I have an even better idea," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before starting to get out of bed.

Olivia's jaw dropped as she watched him get dressed… he wasn't supposed to be putting clothes _on_. "What exactly is this idea of yours?" she asked, and he turned that damnable smirk on her.

"You'll see," he said. Anders grabbed her clothes and tossed them at her. "Get dressed, we're going out."

"Out? But it's _raining_!" He ignored her, leaving her alone in their room. "Anders, you get your ass back over here, _now_!" she called out.

"No!" he shouted back, sounding as if he were already halfway down to the kitchen.

Cursing him under her breath, Olivia got dressed and angrily stomped after him, not pleased with the random turn of events. That idea of his had better be worth it, or Maker help him, she'd roast him alive.

…

"Where are you taking me?" Olivia asked as Anders dragged her through Kirkwall, both mages completely soaked with rain. It was at least the fifth time she'd asked him, and he gave her the same answer he had the previous four times:

"It's a surprise."

So she stopped asking where they were going, and let him drag her out to a small cave on the Wounded Coast. The break from the rain didn't do much, since they were already drenched, but it was still better than having raindrops _pelting_ them as they moved.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, exasperated. "And if you tell me it's a surprise, I swear to the Maker, I'll burn you where you stand."

Anders stepped up to her and reached around her, plucking her staff from her back. He held it in front of her, a devious glint in his eyes, and she tentatively wrapped her fingers around it.

"We're going to have another lesson in controlling your magic," he answered, and she furrowed her brows, confused.

"In the middle of a thunderstorm? We're going to get struck by lightning or—" Olivia shut her mouth, suddenly realizing what he meant, excitement bubbling up within her at the idea—_he wanted her to control the storm's lightning_. Her excitement at such a feat was soon followed by fear, apprehension settling in the pit of her stomach at the magnitude of his plan. "Anders, I've never done anything like this before," she breathed.

"You're an extremely powerful mage, Liv," he began. "It's nothing you're incapable of."

"I know _that_, it's just… this is a thunderstorm we're talking about. A force of nature."

"_You_ are a force of nature," he said, but it still didn't completely reassure her. Anders smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Are you _scared_?"

"Absolutely not!" she shouted, glaring at him. Olivia sighed, her fingers nervously tightening on her staff. "You know I don't have good control over big spells… what if I can't do it?"

His expression softened, his honey eyes boring into hers. "Do you trust me?" he said softly, and she nodded.

"With my life."

He held out his hand, and she took it, curling her fingers around his. "You can do this. I know you can." She nodded and Anders lips twitched up into a grin. "Then let's go have some fun." Olivia grinned back at him, laughing as he pulled her back out into the rain. She stood in the middle of the open area outside of the cave, taking a deep breath and looking up to the storm clouds.

"Okay, how exactly does this work?"

Anders stepped up behind her, pressing his chest to her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. She smiled as he kissed her cheek, his stubble tickling her wet skin. "You're going to draw the lightning to you, and once you've done that, you can control it and redirect it."

"Oh, that's all," she said sarcastically, and he huffed a laugh.

"Hold your staff upright from the ground," he ordered, and she did as she was told, pressing the bladed end of her staff into the sand, holding the middle of it with both hands. "Now, charge it as if you were going to cast an ordinary lightning spell. It will draw the storm's lightning to you, so be ready to channel it through your staff like the normal spell."

"And if I end up electrocuting myself?"

"We'll _both_ get electrocuted," he declared, holding her more securely. "I'm not letting you go."

"Okay," Olivia said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She concentrated on reaching the raw power and energy inside her, on drawing on her mana and creating her own sparks. Electricity began to crackle over her hands, and she focused it into her staff, the red orb that topped it beginning to glow as the sparks danced upwards from her hands. An instant later she felt electricity surge into her staff, and she immediately harnessed its energy, channeling it along her staff.

She opened her eyes just in time to see the lightning bolt that she'd attracted fizzle out, her staff crackling with energy until she lost control and it dissipated. _She did it._

"Maker's breath, Anders, did you see that?!" Olivia shouted, whirling around in Anders' arms and excitedly bouncing up and down. "I did it! Andraste's flaming knickers, I actually did it!" She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. He laughed and held her close, until the nearby rumble of thunder startled them apart.

"Now see if you can redirect it," Anders challenged, and she flashed him the shit-eating grin she wore into battle before planting a quick kiss on his lips and venturing out a few feet away from him. Closing her eyes again and letting her head fall back, ignoring the raindrops landing on her face, she repeated the whole process, charging up her staff.

As soon as she felt the surge of energy that signified the lightning had struck the tip of her staff, she pointed it at a nearby rock, trying to channel it like she normally did. The lightning flew out of her staff and hit the rock, the bolt of electricity so powerful it made parts of it crumble.

Olivia turned back to Anders and just _laughed_. She stepped back up to him and sighed, unable to contain her happiness. She lived for the times she could let loose and use her magic, and he'd shown her another extraordinary thing she could do with it. "Thank you for this," she started, incapable of telling him just how much this meant to her. "This is amazing and I can't wait to do it in a real fight, and without you none of this would have been possible."

He was smiling softly at her, and she brushed away his wet hair from where it was sticking to his forehead. He let out a short laugh and did the same to her. "You're welcome, love," he muttered, cupping her cheek with his hand. She leaned into his touch, and he kept staring at her, a water droplet sliding down to the tip of his nose.

"What is it?" she asked, her heart hammering in her chest from the way he was looking at her.

Anders huffed, shaking his head and finally looking away from her. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," she protested. "You've told me not to hold back, and I haven't. You should listen to your own advice."

"Very well," he said, conceding to her. "You're beautiful like this. Happy… using your magic…_free_…" He dropped his hand from her face, his brows knitting together. "I wish it could be like this all the time. That we didn't have to hide ourselves because of who we are."

"I have that with you, Anders," Olivia murmured, moving closer to him. "It's so much more than I ever had, and for now, that's enough." He went to argue, but she shushed him, placing her finger on his lips. "But one day it will happen for us, for _all_ mages. We won't stop fighting until it does. I promise."

Satisfied with the tiny smile that earned her, she pulled her finger back and replaced it with her mouth, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

"I love you, Liv," he said, nuzzling her face, his forehead resting against hers.

"I love you , too." She reached around him and took his staff from his back, handing it to him before taking his free hand and tugging him out into the open space before them, shooting him a wry smile. "Now… let's make some magic, shall we?"

…

After spending hours spewing magic in the middle of the thunderstorm, they returned home, completely drenched and covered in mud. Leandra scolded them for their appearance, but they just laughed and scurried upstairs, stripping off their wet, dirty clothes and jumping into the bath.

Sitting back against Anders, comfortably submerged in hot water, Olivia couldn't help but think that the wonderful idea he'd gotten that morning had _definitely_ been worth it.


	14. Where Did I Go Wrong?

**Where Did I Go Wrong?**

* * *

Anders ushered her into their room, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. She blankly stared ahead of her, blinking back tears. He sat next to her, tucking her hair behind her ear and watching her, waiting for a reaction. He was worried; she hadn't said a thing the entire way home from the foundry in Lowtown, and her argument with Gamlen didn't help the situation.

Olivia swallowed hard, her brows furrowing. "Where did I go wrong?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse. "I-I don't understand… I've been trying to help this city since I got here. I got the gangs off the streets, I help you with the clinic, I tried to help Emeric… but it didn't matter…" She choked back a sob, turning her gaze to him. "Gamlen is right. It's my fault. I-I let her down. I didn't try hard enough to save her…"

"She wouldn't want you to blame yourself," Anders said, and she rolled her eyes, sniffling. A few tears dripped down her cheeks and she angrily wiped then away, huffing and shaking her head.

"You don't know my mother."

"No. And I'm sorry I never will," he said softly. Olivia looked to the floor, clenching the bedcovers as she tried not to cry. He placed his fingers under her chin, gently turning her head so she was looking at him again. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

She stared at him, her lower lip trembling, until she finally broke down. Anders pulled her into his arms, trying to comfort her as she wailed and cried, her chest heaving with every breath she took. He hated that she lost her mother this way, that he couldn't have done anything to save her. He wished he could take all her pain away, but all he could do was be there for her now.

She cried for what felt like hours, and he held her close, rubbing her back, stroking her hair, and whispering words of love to her. She was the one who usually comforted him, and he'd never even seen her cry before then. Olivia was always the strong one, the one who was there for everyone else… but she couldn't be there for her mother.

In time she calmed down, her cries turning into periodic sniffles and whimpers. She pulled her face from the crook of his neck, her eyes rimmed in red as she met his gaze. He started wiping the tears from her splotchy cheeks, brushing her wet hair out of her face.

"You're all I have left," she breathed, eyes boring into his.

"Carver—"

"Isn't here," she finished. "He's going to hate me anyway. First Bethany and now Mother…" Olivia sniffled and focused back on him, fixing him with a serious gaze. "Promise me you'll never leave me."

Anders didn't know what to say to her request. He couldn't promise her that, not when he knew he could eventually break that promise. The templars would find him one day, and even if they didn't, it was likely he would die in his mission to free mages.

"Olivia…"

She grasped his feathered pauldrons, staring up at him with wide eyes, lips trembling with the threat of crying again. "Anders, _please_," she begged. "Promise me."

His brows knit together as she waited for his answer. He didn't want to lie to her, but there was such desperation in her eyes, and he couldn't deny her. Not when she was like this.

"I promise," he said, and she instantly let out a breath of relief. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him tightly.

"I love you. I love you so much," she whispered.

"I love you, too," Anders replied, not letting his voice betray the uneasiness he felt. He'd made a promise he couldn't keep. He could only pray that one day Olivia could forgive him for it.


	15. Grief

**Grief**

* * *

She hadn't left his side in almost a week.

After the small service for her mother, Anders planned on staying home with her for a few days, but it quickly became clear that wasn't the best idea. Olivia was restless, and too many things in the estate reminded her of Leandra.

So Anders took her down to the clinic, and they spent a few days there. The normalcy of it kept her a bit more grounded, and the patients were a welcome distraction from the empty home they returned to every night. Until they couldn't save someone.

It was Leandra's death all over again, and she completely broke down, hysterically sobbing and wailing until he was able to calm her down. It was only the second time he'd seen her cry, and it was painful to see her in such a state. Anders hated to see her suffer—she didn't deserve it, she was such a good, caring person—and he wished he could take all of her pain away. He couldn't change what had happened, but he was determined to be there for her for as long as she needed him. It was the least he could do.

They stayed away from the clinic since the incident, instead taking on the odd jobs she always seemed to attract. The two of them and their friends hopped all over Kirkwall and its surrounding area, cave crawling, exterminating gangs, and helping those in need. Their friends tried to get Olivia to talk and laugh, and she tried to enjoy their banter, but couldn't. The only time she seemed like her usual self was when they got into a fight.

Anders knew she loved battle. It was when she could really let loose and use her magic, and she always had a wicked grin on her face as she unleashed destruction on their enemies. He always kept a watchful eye on her since she had a habit of getting up close and personal with her opponents' weapons, and he watched her even closer now. She lacked the battle-grin, but she was just as reckless as she always was, if not more.

Olivia fought with wild abandon, throwing herself into every spell and attack. She was angrier, and as a result her magic was stronger, but less controlled. She successfully killed their enemies, but she destroyed everything around her as she did it. Anders didn't lecture her on being more careful, because he could see it was her way of letting her feelings out. He just made sure he had extra healing potions handy and prayed to the Maker that she didn't get herself seriously injured in the process.

For once, the Maker was listening, because he was able to heal all the wounds she incurred over those few days—the physical ones, at least. Her mental and emotional state was still a matter of concern, though she seemed to be headed in the right direction. Or so he thought.

"Do you ever wonder if the world would be better off without you?" she asked one night, as they lie in bed. He tightened his grip on her, trying to formulate an answer to her question. He'd thought about such things more than once, especially after almost losing control and killing that mage girl, Ella—but Olivia was always there for him when his thoughts turned down that road. Anders opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "It should have been me," she whispered, pulling her face out of the crook of his neck to meet his gaze.

"Your mother?"

Olivia shook her head. "The ogre," she clarified. "Bethany never should have tried to kill it._I'm_ the one who's good at killing things, not her, but she did it anyway. _I _should have died, not _her_. And it should have been _me_ who got the taint in the Deep Roads, not Carver." She huffed, fingers curling into his shirt as she held back tears. "I should have been there in time to save Mother, too. It's all my fault. If it had been me, they'd all still be alive."

"If it had been you, then you'd be dead," Anders murmured.

"But they'd be alive," she breathed.

He shifted closer to her so their foreheads were touching as they lay on the pillows, his fingers coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear before gently stroking her face. "Listen to me, love," he started, his gaze boring into hers. "There was nothing you could do to save Bethany. She made her own choice to go after the ogre. The same with Carver. He knew the risks the Deep Roads posed and he chose to come anyway."

"I could have stopped them, I could have—"

"There was nothing you could do, Liv."

"But I could have done _something_ for Mother! I was so close, I just needed more time!" she protested, her lower lip trembling.

Anders sighed, his brows knitting together. She still blamed herself for what happened to Carver, and for Bethany and Leandra's deaths. He understood completely; he'd been too late to save Karl. "You can't save everyone. No matter how hard you try, you can't," he said softly.

"It's not fair," she whispered, holding back tears.

"No, it's not," he replied. "I know nothing I say will change it. I just… I'm sorry." He fumbled for words, for something to say that would help. "You were lucky to have her as long as you did. When the pain fades, that's what will matter. The happy memories."

Olivia nodded, sniffling. "The happy memories…"

"Your mother would want you to focus on that."

"But it still hurts so much," she muttered.

"I know, love," he said, pulling her into a hug. She buried her face back into the crook of his neck, clutching onto him as she cried. "I know."

He held her shaking form against his own, comforting her as best he could until she calmed down, falling asleep against him. He gently drew her head back, wiping away the wet trails her tears had left on her cheeks. She grimaced in her sleep, her freckled nose crinkling in the most adorable way, bringing a small smile to his lips.

Anders pressed a kiss to her forehead before returning her head to its previous position, cradling it against him. Olivia let out a deep breath, burrowing closer to him, and he tightened his grip on her, holding her close. He sighed, closing his own eyes as sleep started to take him, his own losses haunting his thoughts.

Neither of them slept through the night.


	16. The Showdown

**The Showdown**

* * *

Olivia really didn't know how she got herself into these situations. Maybe it was her will to help people, or her goal to make Kirkwall a better place, or her loyalty to her friends. Either way, she'd really stepped in it now, and as usual, she'd have to fight her way out of it. She'd have to survive…

…by dueling the Arishok.

Anders had told her that the whole thing was absolutely reckless, but it had to be done. He pleaded with her to be careful, and for once she was going to heed his warnings about getting too close to her enemies during a fight. She didn't want the Arishok's gigantic axe or that ridiculously large sword anywhere near her. He would cleave her right in half as soon as he got the chance—it was a battle to the death, after all.

Why was she doing this again? Oh, right, to protect all the prissy nobles from getting themselves killed should the Qunari decide to slaughter them all. She was risking her life for a group of people who would no doubt hand her over to the templars if it meant they could continue living their pampered little lives, oblivious to all the grievances that were going on around them. Well, if she made it through this battle alive, they would _surely_ have a better appreciation of magic.

Olivia cast a glance towards her friends, her eyes landing on Anders. He was tense, his lips pressed into a thin line and his brows knit together. He was afraid she was going to get herself killed. She could see the fear in his eyes, the twitch of his hand as he restrained himself from grabbing his staff and doing _something_ to help her. But she had no intention of dying—not yet, anyway. She and Anders still had time to make up for, and she wasn't going to miss out on one bit of it. She'd already missed enough. She curled her lips into the confident grin she always wore into battle, and she saw him huff, shaking his head at her brazen lack of common sense in such matters. The look on his face seemed to say, _you are absolutely mad_. And she was, at least a little.

She turned her attention to the hulking form of the Arishok before her, tightening her grip on her staff as she called upon her magic. Her free hand crackled with electricity as she poised herself to strike, ready to rain down lightning and fire on the Qunari leader. She would show him why mages were feared. They would all see just how destructive she could be.

_Let's get this started._


	17. Distractions

**Distractions**

*I've upped the rating to M because of this, just in case.

* * *

Olivia _loved_ to watch Anders heal. Even after being a witness to it for four years, it still fascinated her.

She loved how his magic cast a blue glow over his handsome features, his brows knit together and his lips pressed into a thin line as he concentrated on what he was doing. She loved how she was so attuned to him that she could feel the crackle of his magic in the air as he drew on his mana, the song of his magic singing to her own. She loved when he healed her, how the hair at the back of her neck stood on end, gooseflesh covering her skin as the warmth of his magic sent tingles throughout her body. She loved how the soft touch of his healer's hands still made her stomach flip in excitement, the same way they had the first time he had ever healed her.

She also loved all the other _magical_ things those hands could do.

Olivia blushed at where her thoughts were going, even though it wasn't the first time they had gone there. As much as she loved to watch Anders heal because it captivated her, there were times when watching him use magic made her want to rip his clothes off. Apparently now was one of those times.

Anders finished up with his patient, his eyes drifting over to where Olivia was supposed to making potions. When he saw that she was… distracted… he smirked, a devious glint in his honey eyes.

"You were staring," he said, stepping up to her.

"I was," she replied, moving closer to him. There was no point in denying it; he knew _exactly_what he did to her.

"Did you make _any_ potions?"

"No," she muttered, and he laughed.

"Then it seems I'm going to have to punish you," he said quietly, placing his hands on her hips and pulling them together. Olivia grinned at him, resting her hands on his chest as she started to fiddle with the buckles of his coat.

"Oh, no. Whatever will I do?" she said, her tone light, not even pretending to be alarmed.

He huffed before quickly glancing around his clinic, assessing that there weren't any more patients for him to heal. He took her hand and led her to the back of the clinic, into the small space he used to live out of. As soon as they were safely hidden from prying eyes, Olivia tugged Anders close, capturing his lips with hers. He pressed her back against the wall as they heatedly kissed, their hands busy loosing the ties and buckles of their clothing.

She had just started to slide her hand into his open pants when he suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling it away and whirling her around. He wasn't gentle about it, roughly trapping her against the wall from behind, pinning her wrists on either side of her head. She squirmed against him, but he just pressed harder, his lips trailing a path of kisses up her neck.

"Beg for it," he huskily whispered into her ear, and Olivia huffed, biting back a grin.

"The Champion of Kirkwall does not _beg_," she replied, and he chuckled, his breath tickling her ear.

"We'll see about that, sweetheart." His hand slipped into her robes and under her breast band, the other weaseling its way into her smalls. He got to work teasing her, touching her in ways he knew would drive her _mad_.

"Damn it, Anders," she breathed between pants, her fingers digging into his forearm. He stopped nibbling on her neck, and she could feel him smiling against her skin.

"Just say the words, love," he muttered, moving his fingers closer to their final destination. She moaned, desperately trying to grind against his hand, but he was having none of it.

"Say it," he growled, a short burst of sparks from his fingers accompanying his demand. Olivia bit her lip from crying out at the sudden shock. He'd won; she was completely at his mercy.

"Anders," she started, gasping for the words. "Anders, _please_."

He obliged her, _finally_ touching her the way she wanted. Anders started doing the electricity thing in earnest, the subtle, controlled charges making her head spin with pleasure. She couldn't keep quiet, wordless moans and his name slipping from her lips like a chant. All that mattered in that moment was the weight of his body at her back as he pinned her against the wall, his skilled lips on her neck, and his wonderfully talented hands playing her body like a fiddle.

Her control over her magic slipped fast, the air around them crackling with electricity until she just couldn't take it anymore. Unconsciously, Olivia released a shock of sparks, crying out his name a final time as she finally hit her limit.

Anders peppered her throat with gentle kisses as she came down from her high, his stubble pleasantly scratching against her sensitive skin. She enjoyed the moment of blissful peace, until it was cut short, one of his assistants calling out for him.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, spinning her around so she was facing him again. She rolled her eyes at the smug look he was giving her, mischief still dancing in his eyes. He placed his hand on her face, gently caressing her cheek as he leaned in for a long, deep kiss. "We'll finish this later," he said when the kiss broke, nuzzling her face.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. Anders planted one last kiss to her forehead before heading back out to deal with his new patients. Olivia took a moment to compose herself before joining.

She couldn't wait to get home and give him a taste of his own medicine.


	18. His Worst Nightmare

**His Worst Nightmare**

* * *

_This can't be happening. Not again._

Anders could only stare at Olivia in shock, her blank, dead eyes eerily watching him. They were always such a vivid blue, bright and shining like the rolling waves of the ocean when the sun hit their peaks… but now those eyes were cold and lifeless. He stepped up to her, lifting a shaking hand to brush the hair from her face. He knew what he would find, but that didn't stop all the air from leaving his lungs at the sight of the fresh brand upon her forehead. That's when it all hit him.

_They made her Tranquil._

"Liv," he breathed, cupping either side of her face, silently begging for her to come back to him.

"Anders," she replied, her voice toneless and flat.

_That's not how she's supposed to say my name_.

She was supposed to say it with a smile, with _light_ in her eyes.

But Olivia would never smile again. She would never laugh again. She would never _feel_ again. They took the woman he loved and turned her into a shell of her former self. Olivia was _gone_. His biggest supporter, his best friend, the love of his life—was gone. _His Liv was gone._

_I can't do this again_.

Outraged, Justice fought for control of his body, and in his grief he gave in to the spirit. Justice's anger and disdain merged with Anders' own sorrow as he came to the surface. And his arrival brought back Olivia.

He saw the exact moment she came back to him, those blue eyes shining bright before they filled with tears. She placed her hands over his and choked out a sob, her chest heaving as she cried.

"It's horrible," she spluttered, tears spilling over their hands. "Please make it stop. Anders,_please_."

_No._

But Justice considered it. Anders struggled to control himself again; he couldn't let Justice give in to her plea. So he clawed his way back to control his body.

Olivia cried even harder when the glow in his eyes faded, knowing what it would soon bring.

"I won't lose you," he said, voice trembling. "I can't. Olivia, I love you."

"I…" She abruptly stopped crying, her hands dropping from his, her face returning to the passive expression she wore before.

"No!" Anders wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, tears streaming down his face. "Come back to me, love. _Please_, come back."

"I am right here," came her muffled voice. But it wasn't _her_. "Do not be upset, Anders. This had to be done."

"No, no, no… Liv…" He felt empty, as empty as her eyes, like a part of him was gone. His chest constricted, and he could barely breathe, overwhelmed by her loss. He pulled back and kissed her, her lips unresponsive to his own, and he cracked, Justice pouring through and taking control again.

Olivia wailed, a painful, desperate sound that wracked him to his core. "Not again," she whined, looking right into his—Justice's—eyes. "Please, not again. Kill me. Just kill me."

"_Anders loves you_," Justice stated, with _Anders'_ mouth.

"I know."

"_He does not wish to kill you_."

"Please, Justice," she begged, lip trembling as she forced herself not to cry. "Don't make me live like this."

Justice unsheathed the small knife from his belt, and Anders struggled against him, frantic—_desperate_—to stop him. The spirit fought back, and Anders was left trapped in his own body, trying to scream, trying to do _something_ besides let Justice control him like a puppet… but he failed. Justice plunged the knife into Olivia's stomach, and then Anders was screaming as the spirit relinquished control over his body.

Anders caught her as she fell forward, and he lowered her to the ground, pulling her onto his lap. He quickly pulled the knife out and went to heal her, but she stopped him, grabbing his hand and bringing it to her chest.

"You promised," she said weakly, brilliant eyes on his.

"Liv, I can't…"

"I love you, Anders," she whispered, a small smile on her lips. "Always remember that." Her grip on his hand loosened, her last breath leaving her lips as the life faded from her eyes for the final time. Anders pulled her body to his chest, sobbing into her hair, calling her name, wishing for her to come back to him.

_This can't be happening. Not again._

_Please, love. Come back to me._

_I love you. I need you. Don't leave me here alone._

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him back and forth until he opened his eyes and jerked upright, his gaze landing on a dark figure before him.

Olivia.

He stared at her, confused, noting the lack of a brand on her forehead and the concern in her eyes. She was just… sitting in front of him, in their bed, her hair sticking out in every direction like it always did when she woke up.

Then it hit him. It had all been a dream.

Relief washed over him and he reached for her, needing to feel her and confirm that she was okay. She wrapped her arms around him and held his head to her chest, and _Maker_, the sound of her heartbeat was like music to his ears. She ran her fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and comfort to him.

"Shh, it's over, my love," she muttered into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm right here, everything's okay now."

"I thought I lost you," Anders forced out, his voice just above a whisper as he hugged her tighter. "They made you Tranquil, and I… Justice… killed you."

He lifted his head from her chest and she smiled at him, shaking her head. "I'm still here, Anders. I'm not going anywhere." She placed her hands on his face, wiping the tears from his eyes before leaning forward and resting her forehead against his, gently stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. Anders closed the distance between them and met her lips with his, and she wasn't impassive as she'd been in his dream—she kissed him back.

When they broke, he immediately tugged her closer, and she crawled onto his lap, tangling her arms and legs around him, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. "I want to hold you for a little longer," he breathed, and Olivia planted a kiss on the side of his neck.

"Hold me as long as you want." She snuggled closer to him and sighed. "I'll always be here for you."

Anders, the lovesick fool that he was, let himself believe her.


	19. Date Night

**Date Night**

This is set between Act 2 and Act 3 (probably closer to Act 3), when the templars are cracking down on the mage underground, and Anders has taken up the cause of mages again after the Ella incident during Dissent (Olivia calmed Anders down and Ella lived).

* * *

It was a busy day in the clinic. There was a bit of an influenza epidemic running rampant in Darktown, and Anders had his work cut out for him. Olivia watched as he healed patient after patient, his face set in concentration, tendrils of blue magic pouring out from his hands. As much as she hated to see people sick, she was glad for the distraction it provided. Healing was something that kept him in one of his better moods.

He caught her staring and smirked at her, sending his newly healed patient off so he could take care of another one. For a brief moment, electricity danced between his fingertips, and he suggestively waggled his eyebrows at her.

"You'll get your turn later, sweetheart," he said, and Olivia laughed, rolling her eyes at him.

"You should pay attention to your patients," she playfully chided, gesturing to the young woman who had settled herself onto his examination table.

"And you should pay attention to your potions," he shot back, beginning to heal the woman. "We don't need a repeat of last week. That poor boy had the runs for three days straight."

"Oh, Maker, don't remind me," she groaned. She felt _horrible_ for accidentally screwing up that potion, and she'd apologized to the boy _repeatedly_.

"You'll never live it down, love." Anders shot her one last smile before fully focusing his attention on his patient.

She shook her head and waited for him to finish before shooting a spark of electricity right at his behind. He jumped in surprise, his hand darting back to cover where she'd hit him. Olivia quickly returned to her potions, suppressing a giggle and pretending to be innocent. It was her turn to be surprised when he stepped up behind her and pressed his lips to her neck. She sighed contently at the tender kiss, enjoying the way his stubble softly rubbed against her skin.

And then he zapped her right back.

Olivia jerked away from the little burst of electricity, turning around and shoving him in the chest. "You are such a tease."

"You started it."

"Just get back to work," she said.

"As you wish, oh, mighty Champion," Anders replied with a mock bow. He smirked at her again, and she softly smiled back at him. It was good to see him happy like this. Maker knows he deserved it.

Both mages got back to their work. Patients flocked into the clinic sick and left healed, with the bonus of a potion to help keep them that way. The rest of the day flew by quickly, and soon enough the last of the patients trickled out of the clinic, leaving them to clean up and close for the night.

Olivia was putting away various medicinal plants and other ingredients, when a lone man walked into the clinic, looking around for Anders. She recognized the man as one of his contacts in the mage underground, and gestured towards where Anders was. The man quickly nodded at her before going to discuss whatever it was he was there about.

She didn't bother trying to eavesdrop; Anders would tell her what was going on if it pertained to her. After he decided to get involved with the mage revolution again, she'd demanded he let her help. She needed _something_ to do instead of lying in bed alone while he was out traipsing all over Kirkwall to save mages. He'd refused, said that it was too dangerous, but she pressed the issue and finally got him to cave in. His only stipulation was that she only involve herself with the actual rescuing of mages, leaving all dealings with the mage underground's contacts and connections to him. He wanted to keep her from that world as much as possible, again, for her safety. She wanted to be a part of everything, but she saw how serious he was when he spoke of the dangers it would place her in. So she agreed to his terms—and thus "date night" was born.

Anders approached her as his contact left, stepping up to her and placing his hands on either side of the table she was leaning back against.

"So, is tonight date night or not?" she asked, looking up at him expectantly.

He let out a light laugh. "If you're interested…"

Olivia scoffed and shot him a wry grin. "_If_ I'm interested. You should know the answer to that." She stood up straight, loosely draping her arms around his neck, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Freeing mages and maybe even taking out a templar or two… it's so romantic… and exciting! It really gets the blood going, you know?"

"You're absolutely mad."

"You know you love it," she said, and he shook his head, trying not to smile. "Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy taking out templars."

"It's one of the best parts of date night," Anders replied.

Olivia laughed. "Yes it is." She pressed her lips to his, and he pulled her body flush to his as he deepened the kiss. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, and she smiled as he gently nuzzled her face with his. "We should prepare," she murmured, even though she didn't want their little moment to end. Once they helped the mages they'd have time for more sweet stuff—another bonus of date night.

Anders nodded and released his grip on her. He held out his hand and she took it, lacing their fingers together as they left the clinic. They had a date to get to.

* * *

It was time.

They ventured through Darktown to the entrance of the tunnels that led to the Gallows. Olivia went to climb down the ladder, but Anders caught her arm and stopped her. She sighed, looking to him, knowing what he was going to say.

"If there are Templars—"

"I can't promise that I won't get up close and personal with them," she started. "What else says 'I hate you' like a flaming fist to the face?"

"I'm serious, love," he said, a pleading look in his eyes.

"I may be crazy, but I know what I'm doing." She placed her hand on the side of his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. "I'll be careful." He leaned into her touch, placing his hand over hers. "We'll be fine. It'll be a routine and boring date, and you'll have to make up for the lost excitement once we get home."

That got him to crack a smile, and she smiled back, pleased with herself. In reality, their date could go horribly. Things had gotten harder for the mage underground, thanks to Knight-Commander Meredith assigning some ruthless Templar with the sole job of destroying it. Their raids into the Gallows used to go smoothly, but lately the Templars always seemed to show up sooner or later. But they weren't going to let that stop them.

"I love you, Liv," Anders breathed, his eyes boring into hers.

"I know. I love you, too."

After a brief kiss, they made their way down into the tunnels, navigating to where it exited—past the outer walls of the Gallows. Their contacts within the Circle had done their part and gotten the mages to their meeting location. Anders and Olivia gathered the jittery mages—who were barely out of their teens, the youngest just a child—and started to lead them back to Darktown. They'd almost made it back when they ran into a problem.

The Templars were waiting for them.

"Anders, they can't fight," Olivia whispered, readying her staff and calling on her magic. She glanced back to the mages they were rescuing, all of them petrified in the presence of the metal-clad men.

"Run, get out of here!" Anders shouted at them as he too prepared for battle, and they scurried off through the tunnels towards the exit back to Darktown. Some of the Templars made a move to chase after them, but the one in charge made them stand down.

"Champion," he greeted, almost cordially, and Olivia huffed, her lips curling into a predatory grin.

"I'm not interested in any banter," she spat. "You're interrupting our date, and I'd very much like to get back to it."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, slamming her staff down to the ground. Cracks and crevices fanned out from the bottom of her staff, the ground shaking with a localized earthquake. It knocked a few Templars off their feet, and she laughed as she finished off the immobilized warriors with a shower of exploding fireballs.

Her and Anders moved fast, unleashing as much fury as they could before their remaining enemies had a chance to drain their mana. She used her staff to stab and smash just as many Templars as she burned and electrocuted, and soon enough there weren't any left to fight.

She exchanged a weary glance with Anders before he grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the mess they'd made. They ran towards the end of the tunnels, where another group of Templars were waiting for them, the one in charge from before at the head of the group. Behind them lay the bodies of the young mages they were supposed to help, all of them slaughtered.

Olivia stared at them in disbelief. They'd had trouble before, but _this_… they'd never lost anyone during an escape. Beside her, Anders was furious. Veins of blue light glowed through cracks in his skin before fading away as he regained control of the spirit inside him. It was he who attacked first this time, releasing a battle cry as he hurled a stone projectile into the crowd of Templars.

She joined him in battle, and for every Templar they killed, it seemed two more appeared out of nowhere. The Templars overwhelmed them, and if they didn't do something to change the tide of the fight soon, they'd both end up dead.

She released a burst of telekinetic energy that sent the warriors flying away from her. She lifted their bodies with another wave of telekinetic force, then slamming them down into the ground, their armor clanking loudly at the impact. She prayed it would keep them away from her long enough to cast a spell that would annihilate the rest of them.

Carefully focusing on the raw power she had access to, Olivia started to summon electricity to her hands, sparks jumping between her fingers as she charged the spell. She was going to rain lightning down on them and fry them in their metal suits for killing those mages.

"Olivia!" At the sound of Anders' voice, she stopped her casting, whirling around to face him. A Templar she'd missed—_how had she missed him?_—was practically on top of her, sword ready to strike. She didn't have enough time to think, let alone _defend_ herself.

She flinched, gasping and closing her eyes, bringing her staff in front of herself. She waited for the inevitable hit, but it never came. She opened her eyes to find the man completely encased in ice, sword inches from her face. Olivia glanced behind him and her eyes met Anders', his free hand outstretched towards her, the remnants of a frost spell fizzing away between his fingertips.

Before Olivia could even register that he'd saved her life, she witnessed the beginnings of a scene that had regularly haunted her nightmares. A Templar was coming up right behind Anders, who was too focused on her to see him. Her world stopped, her heart seizing in her chest as the Templar grabbed Anders' shoulder and ran him through with his sword.

Eyes wide, he looked down at the sword sticking out of his stomach, almost surprised—as if he couldn't comprehend how it got there. Anders met her gaze, falling to his knees when the Templar pulled out the sword. The man pulled it back, getting ready to swing it at Anders' neck, and something inside Olivia _snapped_.

She lost control of her magic, her emotions getting the better of her. Her anger and fear washed over her as she drew on every last bit of mana she had, a ring of fire starting to build up around her. She lashed out with a scream, a maelstrom of flames incinerating everyone around her.

The anguished screams of his brothers in arms were enough of a distraction to prevent that Templar from killing Anders. Instead, he and the others that remained standing used their abilities to Smite her, draining her remaining mana, the inferno of flames around her instantly dying out with a hiss. She could feel them ripping the last of her mana away from her, her chest painfully constricting as she grew dizzy and disoriented.

She wasn't the only one affected—they drained Anders of his mana as well, and without it, he couldn't heal himself. _He was going to bleed out._

Olivia spun her staff and swung the bladed end at the first Templar she saw, desperate to get Anders, but she was weak, and her attack was futile. The armored man caught her staff, ripping it from her hands. His fist connected with her face, and it stunned her, her vision blurring for a moment. She was hauled up by her hair and shoved against the wall of the tunnels, an armored hand clamping around her throat.

She clawed at the hand, desperate for air, desperate to get to Anders, but it was no use. She tried to summon electricity to her fingertips to shock the man off of her, but her mana was gone. She was helpless.

"That was impressive, Champion," a voice said, and she realized it was from the Templar restraining her. His face swam before her until he loosened his grip just a bit, and she was able to breathe enough to focus on him. It was the one in charge—the one who'd ordered the deaths of the mages they were trying to help.

Olivia ignored him, her eyes darting over the carnage around her until they found Anders. There was a Templar on either side of him, each holding one of his arms, his body hanging limp between them. _Maker_, there was so much blood. How much blood could a man loose before he couldn't be saved?

She mustered up a glare at the bastard pinning her to the wall, struggling against him with all she had to try and get free. She needed to do _something_ before it was too late…

"You put up a good fight, but your time interfering is over." The Templar looked to his fallen comrades with a frown, turning his unforgiving gaze back on her. "You're going to pay for what you've done here."

"I'm t-the Champion… you c-can't kill me," Olivia rasped. She was too important a person in Kirkwall for them to just kill her.

He laughed, _laughed_, and it sent chills down her spine. "We may not be able to kill you, but we can kill your friend, instead." He nodded to the Templars holding Anders, and one of them jerked his head up, the other bringing his sword to his neck.

"N-No! No, please! P-Please don't hurt him!" she begged, frantically struggling against her captor. She couldn't let them kill him, she _couldn't_. "You can do… whatever you want to me, just… leave him out of it! _Please_, I b-beg you!"

"Anything?"

"Yes, a-anything. Just d-don't hurt him," she croaked, on the verge of tears.

"Maybe I'll make you Tranquil," he mused, dread creeping up her spine at the thought. "The Champion of Kirkwall would make a fine pet." He brushed aside her hair from her forehead, his hand around her throat preventing her from jerking away from his touch. "The Brand will suit that pretty little head of yours."

The Templar finally released his grip on her, and she fell to the ground, terrified and gasping for air. As the fog cleared her head, she felt the air around her shift. It was subtle, but she'd come to recognize what it felt like when traces of the Fade emerged—and what it meant. Olivia looked to Anders, who was now standing between the two Templars who had restrained him, his skin cracked open and glowing the same blue as his eyes.

But he wasn't Anders anymore. He was Justice.

* * *

"_You will not lay another hand on her!_" he boomed, drawing the rest of the Templars' attention. Olivia could only watch as Anders—no, Justice—fought off the rest of the warriors, destroying them with magic and practically ripping them apart with his bare hands. When they were all dead, he stood among the bloodbath, his chest heaving, glowing eyes looking over what was left of the Templars.

Olivia scrambled to her feet, steadying herself against the wall. He whirled around and his eerie gaze landed on her, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth.

"Anders! No!" she shouted, running up to him. Blood soaked his coat, and she quickly unbuckled the many clasps that held it closed, lifting up the tunic he wore underneath.

By the Maker, it was _bad_. The sword wound was right under his ribcage, blood still pouring out of it. She didn't know how he was still standing. Well, she most likely had Justice to thank for that. Olivia pressed her hand to the wound and met his gaze, panicking when she saw that Justice hadn't relinquished his control over Anders' body.

"Anders!" He didn't hear her. He was tense, still on edge, as if he expected more Templars to show up—which was still a possibility. But they were alone, and if he didn't heal himself _now_, he'd probably die. "Justice!" she shrieked, desperate and afraid of losing him. That finally got his attention, and he looked down at her expectantly. "Anders needs to heal himself or he's going to die!"

He nodded once, and then faded away, Anders' glowing eyes and skin returning to normal. Without the spirit holding him up anymore, he sagged forward with a pained groan, and Olivia caught him, lowering him to the ground. He gave her a weary look, barely able to hold his eyes open.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, coughing up more blood.

"I'm fine, love," she started, grabbing his hand and placing it over the gaping hole in his torso. "Heal yourself." With a wince he began healing himself, his skin knitting itself back together until all that remained was a faint scar. He let out an exhausted huff before raising his hand to her face in an attempt to heal her as well. She shook her head and gently took his hand, lowering it to his chest. "You're still too weak."

"But—"

"Later," she interrupted, her voice cracking as she spoke. She didn't want him to kill himself trying to heal her, too. She'd already almost lost him to the damned Templars. Olivia choked back a sob and hugged him tight, burying her face in his neck where she could hear his faint pulse just beneath his skin. _He was alive._

She didn't let him go until she calmed down and composed herself. She helped him up and together they hobbled back to Darktown, returning home through the cellar of the estate. When they got upstairs Bodahn and Orana nervously fussed over them, but Olivia assured them that they were fine; they just needed to get cleaned up and rest. They left their staves in their room, stripped off their bloody clothes, and hopped into the bath Orana had drawn for them.

They washed each other in silence. Anders was still weak and they were both exhausted, but he still insisted on healing the bruises on her face and her neck. When they finished, neither of them had the energy to leave the warm, soothing water, so they remained in the bath together.

Olivia sat behind him, her arms wrapped around his chest, laying her head on his shoulder. Her fingers aimlessly traced over his new scar, her mind replaying their failed rescue over and over.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "This was all my fault." She held him tighter and he gently placed his hands over hers, stilling them. "I know I can be reckless, but it's always me who pays the price for my choices, never anyone else."

"Liv—"

"I was just so angry at them for killing those mages, those _children_, and I wanted to kill them all. I didn't see him… and you saved me… and then…" Her throat tightened as she tried not to cry. "If it weren't for Justice, you'd be dead, and I'd be…" She shivered as she thought of that Templar's threats. _Maybe I'll make you Tranquil… The Champion of Kirkwall would make a fine pet… The Brand will suit that pretty little head of yours._

"I won't lose someone else I love to them," Anders murmured. "I won't… I can't go through that again."

"I know," she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his shoulder. "I won't lose you to them, either."

Anders shifted in the tub, the water sloshing around them as he turned around to face her. "This wasn't your fault," he said, cupping the side of her face with his hand. "_The Templars _killed those mages, _the Templars_ hurt me, and _the Templars_ threatened you. One day they will pay for everything they've done." He pressed his lips to hers and she let herself get lost in the feeling of his kiss. When they pulled back he tugged her close, and she wrapped her arms around him again, resting her head on his chest. Olivia closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the moment while it lasted. For now they were alive, they were together, and they were safe.

But Anders was right. The Templars would pay for everything they'd done. It seemed like an uphill battle, but she wouldn't stop fighting because things needed to change. No mage should have to fear what they went through that night. They should be able to love each other without the risk of Templars driving them apart, killing them, or making them Tranquil.

After tonight, after seeing those mages killed and almost losing Anders, she knew there could never be peace. She would do everything she could to free mages and keep Anders safe. And if she had to take Kirkwall down with her… then so be it.


	20. I'll Stop You

**I'll Stop You**

This is during On the Loose in Act 3. It's my version of what goes down between Meredith and Olivia. (As a disclaimer, it's Olivia who hates Meredith, not me.)

* * *

"Messere." At the sound of Bodahn's voice, Olivia groaned and tightened her grip around Anders' chest, burying her face in the back of his neck. Maker, was it morning already? She and Anders were both exhausted, having delivered a newborn late in the night. She was so comfortable and warm cuddled up to his back, and she just needed a few more minutes of sleep…

Bodahn knocked on the door, calling out for her again. _Maker help me_. "What is it?" she murmured, voice groggy.

"A letter, messere. The messenger said it was of the utmost importance." _Wonderful_. It was times like these that she really hated being the Champion.

Olivia reluctantly disentangled herself from Anders, who let out a displeased grunt at the loss of her body curled around his. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder before sliding out of bed and pulling on her robe. She wrapped it around her bare body, shivering at the loss of heat the blankets and Anders had provided. Opening the door, she took the letter from Bodahn, thanking him as he left. She read the letter as she walked back over to the bed, her brows knitting together at what it said.

"What does it say?" Anders sleepily asked, one eye cracked open as he watched her.

"It's from Meredith." _That_ woke up Anders in an instant. He quickly rolled over and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What does _she_ want?" he growled.

"It says she needs my help 'in a matter of great urgency'," Olivia started, handing him the letter so he could see for himself. "She wants me to go to Templar Hall."

"No," Anders said seriously, tossing the letter aside. "It could be a trap. She could be waiting to arrest you and take you to the Circle."

"Love, I'm the Champion of Kirkwall. She can't just arrest me without reason."

"She _has_ reason," he argued. "Everyone knows you're a mage. And you supported Orsino in front of everyone in Hightown the other day."

Olivia scooted over to where he propped himself up against the headboard and sat right next to him, taking his hand in hers. "I have to go."

"Then I'm coming with you," he declared, and she shook her head.

"You are _not_ stepping one foot in the Gallows," she stated. Maker knows what they'd do to him, even with her protection. "You're not going anywhere near that madwoman."

"Liv—"

"I won't go alone. I'll take Aveline, _and_ Fenris with me." She brushed his loose hair from his pouting face, smiling softly at him. "With two warriors at my back, they won't stand a chance."

"But—"

"I will be fine, Anders," she reassured. "I'll burn every templar that tries to take me… and then some."

"Promise me you'll be careful," Anders whispered, his eyes boring into hers. She could see anxiety and fear all over his face, and she hated to do this to him—but Meredith needed her for a reason, and she had to find out what it was.

"I promise," she breathed. He sighed and begrudgingly agreed, though he demanded he accompany her right up to the gates of the Gallows. She accepted his request and they dragged themselves out of bed, getting dressed and eating a quick meal before gathering Aveline and Fenris. Then it was off to the Gallows.

…

"Champion, welcome," the Knight-Commander greeted as Olivia stepped into her office.

Aveline and Fenris were right outside, but she still kept her guard up. She didn't know what to expect. "Why am I here?"

"There was an incident within the Gallows," Meredith stated, clearly unpleased. "A number of phylacteries were destroyed and several mages took the opportunity to escape."

"How did the phylacteries get destroyed?"

"An insurrection," Meredith said. "Several of my own templars orchestrated the escape, presumable out of sympathy for the mages." _Templars_ were _helping_ mages? Olivia was shocked… but thrilled at the possibilities it opened up. "They turned their backs on their duty and endangered their charges, as well as the city," Meredith continued. "Thankfully most who escaped fled to their families and offered no resistance. The last three are proving more… difficult."

"And you want me to track them down?" Olivia asked, furrowing her brows. The Knight-Commander nodded, and she huffed shaking her head. "I will not force any mages back under your yoke," she said, suppressing her bubbling anger.

"Let me be very clear on this matter, then," Meredith said, narrowing her eyes. She stepped up to Olivia, the mage holding her head high. "You are an apostate. One who operates freely because you have been a protector to this city. If I suspect that is no longer the case, then I may decide your status need change."

Olivia's lips curled into a predatory smile, and she suppressed the urge to summon a fireball to shove in the woman's face. "Threatening me is _not_ going to work."

"I am not threatening you," she simply replied. "I am asking you to justify the confidence Kirkwall granted you."

"I don't need to justify anything," Olivia spat, glaring at her. "I spend every day protecting this city and everyone in it, mages included. So you can find those mages on your own." She turned and made her way towards the door, outraged she would even ask such a thing of her.

"I know about your involvement with the Mage Underground," Meredith stated, and Olivia stopped in her tracks, dread creeping up her spine. Was this it? Was Meredith really going to arrest her? "I know about the other apostates you keep in your company. The elf, and that healer, Anders."

She whirled around, eyes wide as the Knight-Commander stared her down. "Don't you dare bring them into this!" she said, trying to keep the fear from her voice. The templars hadn't tried anything with Merrill, thank the Maker, but they had already almost taken Anders from her and she wasn't going to let it happen again. "If you try and hurt them… I'll stop you. Maker help me, I'll burn Kirkwall down to the ground if I have to."

"None of this needs to happen, Champion," Meredith said, seemingly unfazed by her outburst. "You wield great influence in this city, and this protects them… for now. But because of that influence, it is crucial you understand just what we face." Olivia swallowed hard, focusing on staying calm. "Talk to these mages' families. Investigate for yourself whether they need be recaptured."

After all that, Meredith still wanted her help?

"Even knowing about my… connections… you're not afraid of what I'll do?" she asked warily.

"I hope you'll do the right thing," Meredith said. But her view of the right thing was not the same as Olivia's. "You do not approve of my methods. Perhaps you will change your mind when you see first hand how dangerous these apostates are."

"Very well. I'll look into it," she said, giving in to her request. "As long as you leave my friends alone."

The Knight-Commander didn't acknowledge her last statement, returning to her business. "Speak to my assistant, Elsa. She'll tell you whatever you need to know about the fugitives." She sat down at her desk, her eyes holding Olivia's gaze. "I bid you good day, Champion," she said, inclining her head. Without a word, Olivia turned and left, her mind going a mile a minute.

Meredith threatened Merrill. She threatened _Anders_. Things were spiraling out of control and she wasn't just going to sit on the sidelines and watch as Meredith crushed everything she loved. Something needed to be done, and it needed to be done soon.


	21. Tragedy

**Tragedy**

Olivia was pregnant at the very end of Act 3, but didn't know until she was on the run with Anders and the gang. This isn't _too_ long after Anders blew up the Chantry, so she's only a few months pregnant at the time.

* * *

Olivia was roughly jerked awake, squinting her eyes open to find a distressed Varric hovering above her.

"We've got company," he said quickly, before going to rouse the others. Beside her, Anders awoke, his arms curling around her tighter as he sleepily assessed the situation.

"Love, we have to get up," she whispered over her shoulder, and he shook his head to wake himself up before nodding in affirmation. Disentangling themselves, they pulled on their armor and grabbed their staves, joining Varric and the others at the mouth of the cave they had been sleeping in.

Not too far from their location was a large group of soldiers accompanied by a small squad of Templars. They had gotten into a few skirmishes before, but they had never fought off that many men at once.

"We have to outrun them," Olivia said. "There's only seven of us, we can move quicker than they can."

"They're coming from every direction, Hawke," Varric replied, hoisting Bianca up to rest on his shoulder.

She furrowed her brows, taking a deep breath. "Then we'll have to fight." Everyone nodded, separating to prepare for battle and Anders pulled her aside, stricken with worry.

"You can't fight, Liv," he said, glancing down to her abdomen. "If something happens—"

"I have to," she interrupted, her hand unconsciously coming to rest on her abdomen. "We're outnumbered, and I'm worth at least three of those men alone. You and Justice… you're worth five. We _all_ have to fight or we're going to lose… I can't let that happen."

Anders sighed, tugging her close. "It's not just _you_ I worry about."

"I know." She gently caressed his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. "I'll be careful, I promise," she whispered.

"Just stay close," he muttered, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I love you… both of you."

Olivia gave him a small smile as his hand came to rest over hers on her stomach. "We love you, too, Anders."

"It's time!" Carver called out, attracting everyone's attention. Staff in hand, Olivia stepped up to the front of their group, Anders right at her side, all of them ready for a fight. The soldiers and Templars had stopped marching across the clearing just outside of the cave, and she held her head high as they parted, their leader coming forward. His familiar face took everyone off-guard.

"Sebastian?" she gasped, his final words ringing through her head. _I swear to you, I will come back and find your precious Anders. I will teach him what true justice is!_

"I will give you one chance to surrender the murderer, Champion!" he shouted. Anders tensed beside her, uncomfortably shifting on his feet.

"You know I can't do that!" she shouted back. "Please, Sebastian, just let us go! I don't want to hurt you!"

He turned his back on her, addressing his men. "I want the Champion and the abomination_alive_! I don't care about the others!"

At his words, the battle began, his men rushing towards them while they held their ground. Olivia rained a tempest of fire and lightning down on as many soldiers as she could manage, Anders releasing his own fury beside her. Carver hacked down anyone who got near Merrill, her magic causing it's own wave of destruction around them. Fenris sliced down those that got too close to Varric, he and Bianca taking out soldier after soldier. Isabela was in five places at once, her daggers finding their way into soldiers' backs before they even knew she was there.

A soldier came running at Olivia, and she stabbed him in the gut with the bladed end of her staff, sending currents of electricity into him to finish him off. She pulled her staff from the man's body, whirling around and bashing another soldier in the face with the orb at the top, a spike of ice protruding through the man's chest a moment later. He fell to the ground, lifeless, Anders standing behind him. He met her gaze before jumping into action again, veins of glowing blue light cracking and fading over his skin. She doubted he would be able to hold back Justice much longer, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing—they _were_ outnumbered and starting to get overwhelmed.

She maneuvered her way behind Anders and out of the direct action, calming herself and starting to cast a powerful spell that would help even the odds. She started charging electricity between her hands and over her staff, determined to fry the metal-clad soldiers right in their armor.

A sharp pain in her shoulder broke her concentration, the lightning fizzling out between her hands. She groaned through clenched teeth as she took hold of the arrow in her shoulder, snapping the shaft and fletching off so she could keep fighting. Lifting her head to scan the battlefield, her eyes landed on Sebastian's. He held her gaze, another arrow nocked in his bow and aimed right for her, but he hesitated. For a brief moment they were locked in an intense stare as the battle raged on around them, until his eyes widened, terror washing over his face.

Olivia didn't have time to process his change in demeanor, an excruciating, searing pain blossoming in her midsection. She felt the warmth of her blood seeping out of her as she glanced down, the end of a sword protruding from her abdomen. Whoever stabbed her pulled the blade out of her and she pressed her hands to her stomach, collapsing onto her knees, a single thought on her mind through the haziness of pain and blood loss.

_The baby_.

…

Olivia had spent six years at Anders' side, and in that time he learned to recognize what it felt like when she drew on her mana—traces of magic crackling in the air as it shifted around her, raw, unyielding power rolling off of her in waves. He _always_ felt her, when she accidentally sparked him, to when she was wreaking havoc on their enemies.

It was even easier to feel her with Justice so close to the surface, the spirit pulling pieces of the Fade with him into the mortal world. So when the flow of her magic in the air abruptly stopped, Anders knew there was a problem.

It all happened so fast—first Sebastian's arrow embedding itself in her shoulder, and then the Templar appearing behind her, running her through with his sword. Anders felt like he had been punched in the gut, all the air leaving his lungs at the sight of that blade sticking out of her abdomen.

_This couldn't be happening_.

She collapsed when the Templar pulled out his sword, and a moment later, Sebastian loosed another arrow, the tip finding its target in the Templar's neck before he could finish Olivia off.

Anders couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, his emotions spiraling out of control. It was all too much, and with a scream, he relinquished what little control he had left over his body, Justice taking over.

He annihilated the soldiers around him and Olivia with magic, ripping apart any that dared to come closer with his bare hands. He didn't know how many he took out when they finally retreated and he started to wrestle for control again. Justice faded away fairly easily since that the immediate danger was gone, and Anders was left heaving amongst a pile of bodies, Olivia crumpled on the ground beside the carnage, their friends huddled around her.

Anders ran to her side, falling to his knees and pulling her onto his lap. She tried to speak, a sickening gurgle coming from her throat as she started to cough up blood, her eyes boring into his. He didn't need to hear her speak to know what she was thinking. The pure terror and fear in her eyes made it perfectly clear.

He pushed his matching thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing all the energy he had left into healing her shoulder and abdomen. She was calm under the warmth of his magic, but as soon as he finished she _keened_, her entire body tensing as tears slipped from her eyes.

"Anders," she wheezed, clutching at him, "it still hurts." She groaned in pain, their friends watching on in horror.

"What's wrong with her?" Carver asked, his voice cracking. Anders couldn't answer him, a knot in his throat as he placed a shaky hand over Olivia's abdomen.

"What's wrong with her?!" Carver repeated, angrily this time.

"She's pregnant," Anders forced out, ignoring the collective gasp from their friends as he sent out hints of magic from his fingertips, looking for any sign of life within her.

He felt _nothing_. Where there was once the tiniest spark of life was now empty, their unborn child _gone_.

"No," she breathed, blue eyes desperate and pleading for him to say what she wanted to hear.

He shook his head and she wailed, his heart seizing in his chest as the reality of the situation hit him. _Their child was gone. _The child he thought he would never have, the child they had both wanted so much, was_ gone._

…

He didn't know how long she sobbed into his chest until she started to bleed between her legs. He switched into healer-mode, tending to her as he had many other mothers who suffered miscarriages. He had felt for them, but now he _understood_, and it was all he could do not to just break down beside Olivia.

They retreated back to the cave for the time being, their friends keeping a safe distance from their broken leader. She was in such a state that he had to put her to sleep in order to properly take care of her.

After the symptoms passed and she finally woke up, she was confused for a brief moment, until it all came rushing back to her and she choked back a sob, covering her hand with her mouth. Anders pulled her into his embrace as she started to cry again, holding onto him like a lifeline.

"I'm s-so sorry," she whispered between sniffles and gasps. "It's m-my fault. If I h-hadn't—"

"Shh, Liv, it's not your fault," he murmured, blinking back his own tears as a wave of guilt crashed over him. "I couldn't… I couldn't save our baby," he breathed, his entire body beginning to shake. She looked up at him, wiping away a tear that fell down his cheek as she shook her head. He broke, unable to hold his tears back any longer, grief overwhelming him.

Olivia gently tugged him closer, and he buried his face against her neck, as they both held each other tight and sobbed, mourning the loss of a life that would never be.


	22. Rage

**Rage**

This takes place after Act 3, when Olivia and Anders are on the run together.

* * *

_Where is Anders? He should have been back by now._

They'd split up to collect supplies before meeting up at the small cave they'd camped in, just outside of a small, remote village. Olivia made it back to the cave before he did… and that's when the templars showed up.

She put up a good fight, killing most of them, but as powerful as she was, she was only one woman, and she wasn't invincible. Her left arm was rendered almost useless, thanks to the giant stab wound in her shoulder that had obviously severed a few important nerves and blood vessels. Then there was the deep gash in her thigh, from right below her hip to the inside of her knee. And those were only the worst of her wounds and bruises.

_Where is Anders? Did they find him first? Is he lying in a pool of his own blood?_

The remaining few templars cautiously approached her, like she was a feral animal, and in a way she was. They wanted to catch her; she was worth more to them alive than dead.

Olivia's eyes darted between the armored men as she pressed herself against the back wall of the cave, leaning on her staff for support. They'd drained her of her mana, leaving her with her staff as her only weapon—the staff she was using as a damned walking stick because she couldn't stand on her own.

_Where is Anders? What if I can't do this alone?_

"Take her," one of the templars commanded, and the men did as they were told, moving to rush at her.

"Don't fucking touch me," she growled, lightning crackling from her fingers, the sparks traveling up her arm and staff as she started to get her mana back. The templar in charge went to smite her, but she was quicker, electrocuting him right in the chest, reveling in his screams as he fried right in his armor. Olivia's sudden burst of magic startled the other templars, and she took advantage of their surprise, calling on every last bit of mana she had left.

What she planned might kill her, but at least she'd take the bastards down with her.

Forgoing any semblance of control over her magic, she thought of all the horrors she'd ever experienced, letting her anger and pain flood through her body as her magic did. Being unable to save Father as he lay on his deathbed… the sickening crunch of Bethany's bones as she was crushed between the ogre's fingertips… Carver's veins blackened with the Taint… Mother's mutilated body, her lifeless eyes staring up at her… the bodies of mages, of _children_, lying at the feet of ruthless templars… a sword through Anders' gut, his lifeblood pouring out from the wound… the loss of their unborn child…

With a scream, Olivia released the torrent of flames that had built up around her, the roar of the fiery vortex mixing with the anguished screams of the templars as they perished. She collapsed, on the verge of passing out—or worse—from expending so much of her energy.

_Where is Anders? I need to say goodbye…_

A familiar silhouette appeared at the mouth of the cave, and Olivia huffed in relief at the sight. Anders rushed to her side, stepping over the melted metal and charred remains that once were templars, wrinkling his nose at the lingering scent of burnt flesh that permeated the cave.

"You're late," she muttered, noting the blood that covered his face and clothes.

"I'm sorry, Liv," he replied, crouching beside her and holding a potion-filled vial up to her lips.

Olivia eagerly drank the potion, the cloudiness in her head starting to clear away. She sighed, feeling the warmth of his magic on her shoulder as he began to heal her.

When he finished, he helped her stand up, and she got a good look at the extent of the damage she'd caused. She'd decimated the templars, completely incinerated them… and she still felt nothing but anger towards them.

"Calm down, love," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple as he laced his fingers with hers. When he lifted their conjoined hands, she saw sparks crackling over their hands, sparks she didn't even realize she was causing. Trying to take deep breaths, Olivia focused on reigning in her magic. It was so much harder than just letting it go.

She could almost laugh at the irony of it all. Anders was the one with a vengeful spirit inside his head, but there she was, the one losing control, needing to be calmed by him.

_What have I become?_

"We need to go," she said curtly, leading Anders from the cave.

Olivia refused to ponder the thought. She'd done what she needed to in order to survive, just as she always had… just as she always will.

She would do whatever it took to keep Anders safe. She wouldn't let anyone take him, and any fool that tried could face her wrath.

They'd end up a pile of ashes, just like those before them.


	23. The Past That Haunts You

**The Past That Haunts You**

This takes place about 2½ years after the events of DA2, and it references _Tragedy_ quite a few times. Also, the twins are just over a year old.

* * *

The remote cottage in the woods that had been their home for the past few months wasn't safe anymore. The Templar presence in the farming village not too far from the cottage had increased as of late, so Olivia and Anders packed up the little belongings they had, determined to take the twins as far away from that place as they could get.

Their travels had gone well so far, thanks to the fact that the twins were a bit older than they were the last time they had to move. They were well behaved, contently remaining in their parents' arms without any screaming or whining—which Olivia said was a miracle from the Maker himself. Little Karl had drifted off to sleep as Anders held him, his chubby face buried against his neck. He glanced over to Olivia, Bethany in a similar state, curled up in her mother's arms.

Olivia shot him a small smile before looking down at Bethany and brushing her mousy, tangled hair from her face as she slept. Anders couldn't help but smile at the affectionate way she looked at their daughter.

Their brief moment was cut short when the sound of distant voices drifted over to them. Olivia tensed and jerked her head towards the source of the sound, the air around them changing as she subconsciously started to draw on her mana.

"Relax, love," he whispered, and she nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The voices didn't necessarily mean danger—they could be from an innocent group of travelers, for all they knew.

The mages crept closer to the source of the sound, eyes darting across the expanse of forest in front of them. They came across a small clearing, sunlight filtering through the trees, the light dancing across a small pond. It would have been a beautiful sight, had the clearing not been occupied by a small band of armored soldiers.

"Anders, those are Starkhaven men," Olivia breathed, her magic surging again out of fear.

Before Anders could answer her, a familiar voice rang out over the clearing, that unmistakable Starkhaven brogue shouting out orders to the soldiers. Olivia lost it, her face twisting into a furious snarl, lightning crackling over her free hand, her other tightening its grip on Bethany.

Anders was flooded with anger as well, his own arm protectively curling around Karl as Justice clawed for control over his body.

"I'm going to _kill_ him," Olivia growled, eyes glued to the target of her rage. "I'm going to drive the end of my staff right through his heart."

Bethany stirred in her arms, mumbling as she started to wake up. Olivia's face softened as she soothed their daughter back to sleep, preventing her from crying and giving away their location. As much as Anders and Justice wanted revenge, the twins were more important. They needed to be kept safe, no matter what.

"Liv, we can't," Anders muttered, his voice strained as he tried to keep the spirit inside him at bay. "We have to get away from here. If they capture us, they'll take the twins."

"Over my dead body," she replied, rage burning in her eyes. "They will _not_ take them."

"No, they won't," he said. "Take the twins and go. I'll distract them until you're gone and we'll meet up later."

"Absolutely not!" she whispered harshly. "You're not fighting them alone."

"I'm not alone," he breathed.

"Anders—"

"Please, Liv," he pleaded, his voice desperate. "If something happens to them…" Olivia stared at him, the same fear he felt for the twins mirrored in her eyes. He knew it was the one thing that would stop her from recklessly leaping into battle, and it did.

She sighed in defeat, slowly nodding her head. "Fine, but you make sure you come back to me. I'm not raising these two balls of crazy on my own."

"I will," Anders said with a light chuckle. He gently pulled Karl back from his neck, and the toddler yawned as he woke up, sleepily staring at him.

"Dada glow," he murmured, placing his hand on his father's face. Anders smiled before pressing a kiss to his son's forehead and handing him off to Olivia, kissing Bethany as well. He placed his hand on Olivia's face, veins of blue light glowing through cracks in his skin as he stroked her cheek.

"Please be careful," she said softly, her eyes boring into his. He nodded before resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Anders."

"I love you, too." He pressed his lips against hers in a quick, but passionate kiss, before pulling away and taking his staff off his back, readying his magic. He took one last look at his family, memorizing their appearance if something should happen to him, and then turned towards the clearing ahead.

"Anders?" Olivia called out, and he stopped, looking over his shoulder. Her eyes met his again, wrath and fury hardening her gaze. "Kill every last one of them."

With a nod, Anders focused back on the task ahead of him, walking right into the soldiers-filled clearing.

"Sebastian!" he shouted, his eyes scanning over the soldiers as they prepared to attack him. Moments later, Sebastian stepped to the front of his men, bow drawn, an arrow nicked and aimed right at him.

"Seize him!" the prince shouted, and his men rushed at Anders, their weapons and armor glinting in the sunlight. Anders let his rage fuel him, and with a battle cry he let Justice take over, the spirit's rage joining his own. Sebastian's arrow found his heart, but he ignored it, releasing a blast of incinerating flames at the incoming soldiers. They didn't stand a chance against him, and one by one they fell, either to his magic or his bare hands.

When they all lay at his feet, he turned his gaze on Sebastian, the other man's eyes wide as he slowly backed away from him. He loosed another arrow, but it did _nothing_. Anders—no, Justice—ripped the arrows from his chest and advanced on the prince, swinging the spiked end of his staff upwards, bashing the man in the face. Sebastian let out a cry of pain, his free hand covering his torn, bloody flesh, as he stumbled backwards into a tree.

He tore the bow from his hands, and shoved him up against the tree by his throat, watching as Sebastian clawed at his glowing hands, desperate for air. Justice's presence waned as Anders regained some control over himself, and he released Sebastian, the archer collapsing to the ground, gasping for air.

"You deserve a worse fate than death for what you've done," Anders growled, unsheathing the small dagger he kept on his belt. He pulled Sebastian upwards, holding the blade to his neck as he shoved him back against the tree.

"For what _I_ have done?" he asked incredulously. "You murdered innocents—"

"So have you!" Anders shouted, drawing blood as he pressed the dagger harder against Sebastian's neck. The prince gasped, his eyes widening at the accusation.

"Olivia… she… didn't make it?" Sebastian whispered. At his words, Anders flashed back to the moment he spoke of, Sebastian's arrow embedded in Olivia's shoulder, a Templar's blade through her abdomen. All his grief from that day came bubbling up to the surface, and he could practically _hear_ Olivia's despaired wail when he told her she had lost their baby.

Justice rumbled within him, still just beneath the surface, and it snapped him back to the present.

"Olivia made it," Anders forced out, his voice strained with emotion as he fought back tears. "But she… she was _pregnant_… and I couldn't save the baby."

Sebastian's eyes widened again, his mouth hanging open as he blankly stared back at Anders. "I… I didn't know… I tried—"

"You _wouldn't_ know," Anders snarled. "You were too busy trying to kill us to listen to her." He went to speak again, but Justice forced his way out, taking control of Anders. "_Never again will you harm an innocent_," he boomed, placing a glowing hand on Sebastian's chest over his heart. Anders' grief overwhelmed him, and he felt the helplessness and heartbreak of it himself. Justice was fully prepared to push his hand forward and rip the other man's heart from his chest, but a small voice stopped him.

"Dada?"

The sound of little Bethany's frightened voice allowed Anders to regain control from Justice again. He turned to the source of the sound, finding Olivia standing at the edge of the clearing, both twins in either of her arms holding onto her tightly, their big brown eyes trained on him. Olivia gazed at Sebastian with hatred and anger, and Anders could feel the subtle shift in the air of her magic as she tried to prevent herself from losing control.

"Liv, what are you doing here?!" he yelled, and she almost jumped, tearing her eyes from Sebastian and focusing them on him, worry crossing her face.

"We need to go, there's more men coming," she explained, her gaze flicking back to Sebastian. If she was putting her vengeance on hold, the situation must have been dire.

Anders turned his attention back to Sebastian, the other man's eyes trained on Olivia and the twins, surprise lighting the un-bloodied part of his face.

"You have…" he started, at a loss for words.

"You won't take them away, too," Anders barked, barely keeping Justice from taking over again. He pulled the dagger away from the prince's neck and roughly turned him around, pressing him into the tree as he twisted and strained his arm against his back. "If you ever come after my family again, I _will_ kill you," Anders whispered in his ear before twisting his arm past it's breaking point.

Sebastian screamed as his shoulder popped, and Anders left him there, his arm dangling lifelessly at his side as Anders returned to his family. Bethany and Karl both reached for him and Olivia handed them to him one at a time, their little arms wrapping around his neck. He hugged them tight against his chest, Justice finally simmering down for good.

Olivia took her staff from her back, lightning crackling along its length as she glared at Sebastian, physically restraining herself from killing the man herself.

"We need to move, love," Anders said softly, and she swallowed hard, nodding as she turned her attention to him.

"Let's go."


End file.
